


What Witchers want

by liverose



Series: Thought and feeling [7]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Dialogue Heavy, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Baggage, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Kaer Morhen, Light Bondage, M/M, Mystery, Poison, Romance, Sarcasm, Smut, Voice Kink, Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:41:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 94,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24150745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liverose/pseuds/liverose
Summary: Geralt has from time to time called Anima the seer of all wants and needs. It's true the empath finally has a good hold on the wants of her witcher but of those she barely knows? And what of those she's never heard of? While she may only care of the wants of one witcher she'd be wise to learn those of others before a winter in Kaer Morhen gets ugly.
Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s), Lambert (The Witcher)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Thought and feeling [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635448
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	1. Lyrian Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of an ongoing series but this is more just fun little side story more than anything else and can be read as such. My OC is an empath / ex barmaid from Lyria in an established relationship with Geralt that is needed knowledge but beyond that you can read the other parts if you need the lore of it all.

"Anima what's the big idea? Are you trying to kill me?" Jaskier's voice sounded punched out of his chest.  
"Huh?" She didn't turn around right away, she had been jogging at a decent clip, she didn't want to lose her momentum. Finally she was recognizing their surroundings with certainty, they'd be at the hermits home in no time.  
"Jaskier?" Geralt noticed, watched as the bard came to a full stop, clutching at his chest in a familiar way. "Anima stop." The witcher was off Roach, a hand on Jaskier's back. "What are you doing?" Geralt was confused. Anima didn't tether to heartbeats without warning, furthermore only did so when the moment truly called for it. He tried to sense any threat but the air and his medallion were still.  
"Doing? I'm . . ." Anima finally stopped, all smile left her face, spinning on her heels at the sound of concern in Geralt's voice. "Jaskier?" Her face went from confusion to worry, realization to anger. Without another word the empath's eyes went completely white.  
"Anima what's happening?" Geralt was pulling at the hilt of his sword. Who was here? Who had Jaskier?

Anima fully planted where the world went white, could see them now, two spearing and sparing tendrils battling to latch firm on Jaskier's heartbeat. Anima reached out a hand. "Jaskier breath out."  
"Anima what-" Geralt growled, he didn't like being sidelined and left in the dark. But he didn't interrupt, watching Jaskier let out a heavy breath that was punctuated with a cough as Anima pulled off the tethers.  
"The fuck?!" Jaskier coughed again.  
"You're fine, they're gone." Anima frowned as she blinked the physical world back into view. She walked with that usual after white wobble but only a few steps.  
"Anima!" Her move forward was halted. Geralt had his hand rooted in her cardinal locks, the tug had some of it's normal playful undertone to it but also carried some of the unexpended energy of a fight that never was. "What was that?" His hold loosened only to palm at the back of her neck. Searching her eyes to make sure their pupils had returned to normal. "What are we headed into?" Anger wasn't normally a look Anima wore. For the last few days she had nothing short of a childlike giddiness pouring from her. Geralt wanted to know exactly what had robbed him of her light steps and unsour scent. "Will this give me a headache?" There were empaths involved, the manipulation of emotions, this always evoked just the worse kind of head splitting annoyance in him. Brawn and brains he was leaps and bounds ahead, emotions, there was lag and he detested lagging.  
"Fredrick's got your answers." Anima was nearly snarling, out right stomping in the direction of the hermit.  
"He did this?" Jaskier questioned quite confused.  
"He's got a school of empaths." Anima spat as she left her companions blinking dumbstruck in the dust.

"I do not have a school of empaths." Fredrick answered Anima with the same vauge plainess he always spoke in.  
"There are women in your home Fredrick." Geralt counted four, two humans, two mutants.  
"Yes." Fredrick had yet to move from his doorway. "Don't be angry with me Anima. Just make them leave. You can have your room back."  
"Back?!" And Anima pushed past Fredrick. "Out." Anima shouted at the door to the room that used to be her's. One woman came out at the order, two others appeared from random corners of the home, one remained hidden.  
"I told you she would be upset. You should leave."  
"But this is-" The blonde linen eyed girl that had come from Anima's room started to plea but she was swiftly ignored. Fredrick turned to Geralt.  
"Did you bring me anything? You stole my only friend. Hopefully it's more than a book."  
"Uh . . ." Geralt was at a loss, Fredrick as always was not too concerned, Fredrick was never too anything.  
"The girls Fredrick." Jaskier was the last to enter the home. "They're empaths." Was there something he was missing?  
"Yes. Empaths." Fredrick nodded. "You're not like other empaths Anima. They're loud. Always talking."  
"People like talking Fredrick." Anima sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Are you training them Fredrick?" She was torn, still angry, but she less and less knew who to be angry at.  
"Yes."  
"You're training empaths but it's not . . . a school for empaths?" Jaskier probably found Fredrick more annoying than most.  
"No. I've gotten notes Anima, I'll read them to you." Fredrick's voice finally had almost an emotion to it, almost pride. "Sozada can-"  
"You agreed to train them . . . for notes . . . for us." Where Fredrick had gained emotions Anima had held her's back. "Whose idea was that?" She wasn't asking Fredrick, she was asking the empaths, one of them had exploited the hermit's pursuit of knowledge and his loyalty to her.  
"Mine." The other mutant a short haired brunette stepped forward a bit sheepishly.  
"That's . . . not Sozada. Two names the rest of them. Pauline Tare." Fredrick while not stellar had gotten a bit better with names and faces.  
"Fredrick do you like training them?" Anima was good at asking the right questions, that skill was never more apparent than the way Fredrick looked at her as if she understood him.  
"I know more about Empaths than anyone outside the manor of mirrors. I like that, they help. They are not friends, but I help them, they help me. Wish they didn't talk so much." Fredrick shrugged.  
"Are there any of them you don't like? You don't have to train anyone you don't like." Anima originally was worried she had misread Fredrick, that he was going to make a manor all his own but Fredrick only had a passion for knowledge, he wouldn't know how nor want to weild an army even less so one of emotions.  
"The human that's not Sozada. Another two names . . . Oda of Dravograd. None of them can do what you can . . . too weak. Not sure she's even a real empath though, bad cook too." Fredrick shrugged again. An annoyed sigh came from the human girl in the room. Fredrick either didn't know or didn't care if that hurt her feelings. Anima knew he was more aware than he lead on, he used what could be viewed as a handicap to his convenience sometimes.  
"Don't be snide Fredrick. And this Sozada? I'd like to meet her." The missing woman, Fredrick knew her name without seeing her face, she was different.  
"Don't make her leave." Fredrick stated with almost urgency.  
"This is your home Fredrick. No one stays or leaves without your say so." Anima nodded. "We'll be here a few days, I've got to see the rest of everyone but I'd like to show you what I've learned." She saw Fredrick's eyes light up. "Maybe we could go over your notes Get your opin-"  
"Can you leave your anchor?" The earlier dismissed Oda spoke up.  
"My what?" Anima knew what was being asked but the question just came out.  
"Geralt. He's your anchor. He keeps you grounded when you go to the white. I figured this when-" Fredrick wound up a lecture.  
"I . . . You want to talk to him. Or do you want him to anchor you too?" Anima didn't know why but this made her skin crawl slightly.  
"I'm not a training weight." Geralt saw the discomfort in Anima's eyes, she didn't want to share him, he had never seen Anima act possesive, but this was close. It wasn't a feeling he wished her to explore but the odd glimpse did stroke his ego slightly.  
"Who knows maybe an anchor is what I'm missing. I could be a stronger empath than Anima if I had a witcher's strength as bearing." Oda spoke again and Anima couldn't help but let out a disaproving grumble.  
"You're making Anima upset. I don't trust people who make Anima upset." Fredrick stated that sentence as if it was something he had said a thousand times, and he had. He used whether or not he thought something would upset Anima as his moral compass.  
"I'm . . . yeah I don't love what you're saying Oda." But the grumble and displeasure got burried, just like any other emotion Anima felt would not suit her. A cool sterile smile, the ones she held for when she vetoed herself took it's place. "But it's possible I suppose, won't say it's not. Geralt helps me a great deal. It's up to him if he'd like to stay or go, but if I find you tethered to him without asking permission, like you did with Jaskier, there isn't an anchor that could hold you." It was worse with the smile, the whole room shared a glance of agreement on that notion.  
"You're being selfish. You think that you're the only one that deserves the witcher?" Oda pushed but if she thought that would scare off the smile she was wrong.  
"Exactly the opposite. I don't, more often than not I think I don't deserve Geralt at all." Anima's voice was calm as it could ever hope to be but Geralt and Jaskier knew well empaths were their most dangerous when they pulled back from their emotions. "But I aim to keep him so long as he'll have me simple as that. I do not aim to keep him because he anchors me, but I do think he anchors me because I love him. Now you can dick around with whatever powers you have, you can ask Geralt very nicely to try to anchor you and if he says yes then there you go. I'm not one to fight but I won't allow you to do anything he doesn't consent to. That's all. You're the one making this darker than it needs to be." It was calm and it wasn't possessive but there was something of a panther ready to pounce tucked right under that calm.  
"Geralt." Jaskier leaned to whisper to the witcher. "Sometimes women say you can do something . . . but really it's a trap and they'll-"  
"Shut up Jaskier." Geralt rolled his eyes. "I didn't bring you to Lyria to join Fredrick's harem. Empaths are . . . difficult." Geralt could feel the tension in the room rising and he didn't want this sour note to carry all through their visit, he already knew it would not meet Anima's expecations. "Here Fredrick." Geralt held out jars filled with the same enchanted glass that ran through Anima's veins. "To study. Do not go around making more." Geralt stared at Oda for a moment, if she was more than a human he wondered if this hissing match would have gone further. "Lets go. I tire of Lyria already." Geralt let out a bit of a scoff as he took Anima's hand, running a thumb down her wrist, to try and give her some genuine calm.

"I'm sorry." Anima let out a sigh as they found the path that would take them into the city. "I shouldn't have gotten that way." She gave Geralts hand a squeeze. "I came in already heated and-"  
"Stop." And Geralt pulled her to him, laying a small kiss atop her head. "You are allowed to feel Anima, even emotions that are baseless."  
"Baseless?"  
"I wouldn't leave you for another." He smiled, kissing finally at her lips. "Especially not for another empath." He added with a smirk.  
"What do you mean especially?" She gave a mock scowl of insult as they resumed walking. Geralt continued to rub her wrist soothingly, happy to see that awful sterile smile gone.  
"I meant what I said. Empaths are difficult. You're difficult, I just don't mind you more than the others." There was a fondness in his tone that didn't much match his words but Anima hummed in apreciation all the same, pulling the back of his hand to her lips.  
"Said the frog to the toad."  
"She was . . . assertive wasn't she?" Jaskier had let Anima simmer before daring to speak.  
"I can't blame her. She might truly want an anchor simple as that and Geralt's as sturdy as they come. I just . . . sometimes I forget that others see what I see."  
"Hmm." Geralt doubted that. No one looked at him the way she did, said his name like she did, treated him with a knowing care like she did. She saw him in lights he didn't even see himself. "Doesn't matter." He shrugged. "I only anchor you when you've gone too far. It's not a task I like, I'm glad I can but would rather there never be a need. So no, I won't electively anchor someone else."  
"Geralt you anchor me always you know that right? Not just when I'm floating around in my nonsense?" Anima felt Geralt didn't fully appreciate what he did for her, how important he was to her. Maybe that's why Oda's words stoked her, maybe she worried someone would be able to show him his worth more fully.  
"Then I don't have any spare time to anchor another." He was getting better with finding the words for her, getting better at making her smile.

The next stop was Thom's Inn. It was both exactly how they left it, yet completely alien. For Geralt it was a pleasant landmark but it nolonger hummed with some undetectable magic. For Anima it had all the familiar notes of home, but it didn't feel like where she belonged anymore. She might've had a moment to mourn that notion if she wasn't scooped up in Thom's arms, drowned by Janis' cry of her name. Ale flowed and stories were swapped, things went on this way for a few hours till Anima noticed Geralt try to burry a smile into his mug. "What?"  
"They're coming." He was a bit disapointed he had ruined the surprise.  
"Thill? Do you ever give your nose a break?" She bopped a finger at the overworked organ, getting an amused snort in response.  
"Not Thill. Orwen, he's baked." It was the scent of pies filled with winter cherry jam, Anima's favorite, that overly tart smell, that had given them away.  
"Ahhh!" Anima shot to her feet, she wouldn't wait a moment longer. She ran out and found Thill, hugging her friend, squeezing her tight. The whole family reunited was quite the sight, Geralt for a moment just watched from a distance as hugs kisses and familial nicities swirled throughout the Inn.

"Too good for us Geralt?" Thill surprised the Witcher with a hug of his own.  
"Hmm" He somewhat clenched under her hold, it didn't feel right or organic the way Anima's did it was . . . too much, but Lyria was too much, too human for him to ever feel fully comfortable. "It's good to see you Thill." And he hugged her back but a small worry began budding inside him, would Anima feel similarly about Kaer Morhen? Just out of place enough? Was it inevitable?  
"And the bard's still alive." Jaskier scooped up Thill's children who giggled at a joke they hadn't been alive for. The catching up resumed. Anima allowed Thill to cut all her offensive dead ends, which Geralt watched over with scrutiny, worried she'd chop too much and he would no longer get the hold in her hair he liked so much. Jaskier played to the crowd of their most recent adventures, getting eager claps and awed gasps. Geralt eventualy eased, almost felt that comfortable buzz he had when he used to visit the Inn to see her, like things were almost as they should be. The vodka helped, he even managed to start of piece of pie before shoving it over to an eagle eyed Anima, two bites had been too sweet. The worry was leaving but comfort didn't linger long.

"Geralt come ere." Almost opposite to Anima Thom nearly exclusively called Geralt Witcher, he had always sounded jolly when saying it. This time, calling out his name, there was no mirth there. Geralt had a feeling he knew where this conversation was headed, while he didn't want it, he didn't shy away either.  
"Yes?" It didn't skip his notice how far Thom had distanced them from the merriment. He folded arms across his chest, bracing himself.  
"Is she eating? Sleeping? My girl looks worse for wear." His tone wasn't angry but it was clear, Thom had no problem with Geralt as a person, or even his relations with Anima but he didn't approve that the Witcher had taken a woman for who was, for all intensive purposes, his daughter so far from him. Left her so much to the will of the elements.  
"The road isn't as flush as taverns for either but I make sure they eat, sleep, I keep them safe as I can." Geralt took no offense at Thom's accusations, if he could bring pies and pillows for her he would, but there were wishes and then there was the world.  
"Safe?" That word had more of an edge.  
"If you have a question ask it." Still not taking offense but also not willing to draw this out for the sake of it.  
"She's got a new scar Geralt."  
"She does." And Geralt's face twitched slightly in bitter acknowledgement. It was a small drag along her forearm, it'd likely disapear with age, but it was there and hadn't been so when she left Lyria.  
"Any idea where from?"  
"Her blood it's . . . there's glass in there-"  
"What?"  
"Her mutation. It's made by implanting glass from Nehalenia's mirror." Geralt spoke with reverence to Anima's paternal figure despite knowing what Thom was building to.  
"So the glass didn't scar her. Was in her before she left."  
"It was." Geralt nodded. "There are people who want it . . . out of her." These were facts, but they were Anima's facts and he felt a bit guilty being the one explaining them to Thom. "Maybe you should speak to-"  
"And you let one of those people get to her."  
"I did." It was far more complicated than that, but Geralt was used to blame, why murk the waters with the full play of events? This was simpler.  
"Is that person dead?"  
"He isn't." Again it was more complicated, but it didn't have to be.  
"And you want me to allow Anima to go back out with you? Leave here where it's safe? What if he comes back? We can hide her somewhere. What if someone-"  
"Anima will leave or stay wherever she pleases." Geralt's reverence faltered for a moment. "We both want that." He reminded himself Thom cared for Anima almost as much as he did. "I will not let them take it from her. I will not allow anyone." And he paused on that word. "Take her from me if she chooses to stay at my side."  
"Witcher's don't marry do they?"  
"They don't."  
"What's to stop you from leaving her stranded somewhere? Ripe for being picked at by crows. If she dies out there-"  
"I love your daughter." Just as every short answer before it Geralt stated it fully prepared for any curse or ill will Thom had been holding for months. Thom held a long stare at Geralt, looking for what, the witcher wasn't sure.  
"Anima?" Thom's voice in such an out of character somber tone quieted the Inn.  
"Yes?" Anima had been dancing arm in arm with Thill.  
"You're still street smart? Good judge of character?"  
"The best in the business." She smiled confidently as she broke away from Thill and walked over to the two men. She knew the look on Geralt's face, prepared for anything, comfortably uncomfortable.  
"I told you to cater to the witcher not fall in love with him." And Geralt had never felt such relief at the word witcher. A stumbling breath escaped his lungs, it half sounded like a chuckle. The room laughed not at him but with him. He let his arms fold around Anima's waist. Thom seemed while not over the moon, appeased, accepting of this being the life Anima had chosen, patting Geralt on the back before reclaiming his seat.  
"It's not the same is it?" Anima's head tilted up to look Geralt in the eye. "Any of it?"  
"Hmm." He knew this would happen, was unfortunately prepared for the slight sadness pooling in Anima's eyes that had been so bright and hopeful for the last week or so. "They haven't changed much." He looked over the Inn again. "You've changed." He held her a bit tighter. "You could go back if you want."  
"No. I couldn't." She replied still a bit sad.  
"Anima I-"  
"I haven't changed for the worse have I?"  
"No idea." He shrugged.  
"Don't care?"  
"Hmm." He kissed the side of her neck. "You don't feel detached do you?" These people still were her family, he hoped the road hadn't stripped her of that knowledge.  
"No they still love me, I still love them. just . . . I don't . . . I was always afraid of leaving, of missing a moment. Now staying would seem . . .wrong."  
"Hmm." And he knew that sad feeling, knowing no home would ever fit just right, that you just had to keep moving. "It's better with someone."  
"Most things are Geralt." The sadness was still there, but it was tempering slightly as she lead them back to the table.

"So Thom can we stay here tonight? Fredrick's home is a bit . . . crowded. Follow up question. What the fuck is that?" Jaskier put a pause to his music.  
"Course you can stay it's a fucking Inn, that's what it's for." Thom nodded. "And that was a turn no one saw coming. Anima's only gotten more popular since she left."  
"Did you really kill a banshee Ma?" Lorna was bobbing up and down on Orwen's knee.  
"No." Anima scoffed.  
"She paralyzed it." Jaskier's palms expanded as to pantomime magic. He would lean into Anima's lore if she wouldn't. "Held it so Geralt could strike it down."  
"Aw Anima you're a real hero now." Thill was never less than happy, never less than proud of Anima.  
"Anyway word spread that Fredrick trained you and well . . . women started to pop out of nowhere."  
"Lucky bastard." Jaskier was just a bit green with envy, but it's not as if Geralt's coat tails had not dropped some gifts into Jaskier's bedsheets. More blanks were filled in, more drinks were had but eventually the night had to end.

"You're not going to put me to sleep are you?" Geralt and Anima stared at a bed that still faintly smelled of her. His mind traveled to their first meetings.  
"Is that what you want? To sleep?" The Inn still had some magic, still was able to bring Anima a level of confidence that would make even a witcher blush.  
"No." He let her pull him down to the mattress, let her kiss at him casually, slowly. He didn't gripe at the slow pace that she took to undress them, even when it just lead to more absent minded whispy kissing and touching. He'd let her have in this bed what she might have never had before. "Whatever you want Anima. What do you want?" This bed had always been for the wants of others, this was just for her. She climbed on top of him, still planting wonderfully tender kisses against his arms, his chest, down his abdomen. Geralt let out a content groan but then his eyes snapped to attention. "No."  
"No? What happened to whatever I want?"  
"Hmmm." No wasn't exactly what he meant. "I can be soft. . . ." This kissing and tracing was distracting. "To you." And he was, gentle as he could muster, he turned her under him.  
"Is that so?" Her smile was still coy and confident. "Will you make love to me Geralt?" It was simply the wording of it, he had made loved to many times, but she had never asked him in such a way. Her tone was mildy sarcastic but all the same cooed. Because barmaids weren't made loved to, fucked pleasantly yes, but made love to no. She wasn't a barmaid anymore.  
"Love to you." He hummed as if it was a thought to ponder. Witchers didn't make love, they never had anyone stick around long enough to do so. He slid into her in a way only knowing someone would allow, it was fluid and tender. The actions while good in their own right, were nothing new. He kissed her just as hungrily as always, their hips rocked in a familiar angle and rythm. She bit back moans as always, forcing Geralt to nudge and nose at her throat till they snuck past. He always sought more, wanted her louder but this time he didn't ask he just let her have and give whatever she wanted. She did always get louder, his hands and hips always made sure of that. She always touched him so tenderly, like he was something fragile, something precious, mapping out the angels of him as if anything had changed, nothing ever did. Somehow it was the same as always, the same tensing and melting in such a familiar way but when it was over and he pulled her over his chest, held by the base of the neck right over his heart the very air was different.  
"Geralt." Even his name that always sounded the same, somehow sounded different, lighter, better. There was no more lingering doubt, no more question of other possibilities, just love.

They let that blanket over them for a long while before Anima finally spoke. "So tomorrow I'm going to catch up with Fredrick." It may have been an epiphany but time didn't stop for epiphanies.  
"Hmm." Geralt's eyes were closed but he was still half awake, half listening.  
"Are you coming?"  
"No." He pulled a blanket over them, feeling a bit of shiver in Anima's skin. ' _She'll need a warmer coat for the mountains.'_ Now he was a quarter listening, going over his mental check list for Kaer Morhen again.  
"Got other plans?"  
"Yes actually." He let out a scoff. "Going window shopping with Jaskier." He had promised the bard to spend some time with him while Anima was busy catching up. It was quite the role reversal, Anima training and Geralt wasting a day away. "Thill invited herself."  
"She does that." Anima nodded into his chest. "She doesn't like being left out."  
"The things I do for you people." Geralt did very much view it as a wasted day but he'd take the loss, it was one day closer to winter.  
"What a martyr for the masses you are." Anima could see she had lost him, he was not listening, she had put him to sleep.

Two eventful conversations happened the next day. The first took place between Anima and Sozada after training. It had been odd training with peers, something she hadn't done in years, and even in comparison to that it was different, better. She felt respected, she had never used her ability and had people understand and appreciate it at such a degree. Any pleasant feeling that would have allowed her was snuffed out by Sozada, all be it unintentional. "Bearer of bad news, sorry." She came to a full stop there, which was odd but Anima nodded, encouraging her to go on. "Your witcher will be stabbed in his sleep." Full stop.  
"What?" Anima had been laying out in the grass, regaining her center, so coming to her feet came with a bit of that after white wobble.  
"Sozada has visions Anima. I think it's a skill seperate from her-" Fredrick started but Anima did not have her usual patience for him.  
"He'll get stabbed? In his sleep? When? Where? By who?" Geralt put little weight to visions, dreams, hell he had little care for destiny but Anima who's ability laid in a more abstract realm gave them more credence.  
"I don't know. Sorry." Sozada stopped again.  
"What do you know?" Anima couldn't reign back all the frustration from her voice.  
"You will wake up in his bed, blade in your hand, covered in his blood." She stopped but then started again, an out of place smile on her face. "Don't worry, no one thinks you did it, the blame is elsewhere. Out of the room."  
"Don't worry?" Anima's scoff was downright angry. "You're saying someone will stab Geralt! Does he live?"  
"Vision wasn't long. I know he was stabbed, not what comes after." The unstated sorry was implied in her face. "So maybe worry a bit."  
"Fredrick you've found her." Anima stated flatly.  
"She came here. She found me."  
"She's made for you." There was no more knowledge here, she might as well scope out what little light she could. ' _Do I bother telling Geralt?'_ Her mind went from a relationship budding infront of her to her own. Would it best best to try and solve this herself or let Geralt scoff and all but blow off Sozada's omen?

Geralt was busy not listening to omens of a less bloody variety, predictions of the next season's fashion prattling between Thill and Jaskier as the duo dragged him to another clothing shop. ' _Dead. I wish I was dead.'_ His eyes lulled uninterested from garish doublet to impractical dress. Something eventually did catch some interest in his gaze. He left Jaskier and Thill to their conversation and walked off. Thumbing his fingers along the silky black fabric. It was too expensive and frivilous so he'd just feel and imagine and that would have to be enough. The imagining was nice though, he could hear the tying of knots and it sent a still undecided tingle across his skin. "You need a scarf Geralt?" And Thill's voice dragged Geralt back to reality, splashing at his ears like a handful of cold water.  
"No." He coughed out as he shook his head. "Are we done here?" Was there any mercy left in this world? Could they stop looking at clothes. He'd even go to one of those silly overpriced Lyrian restraunts, at least there he could eat.  
"Are you sure? I would get it for you. Think of it as a going away present. Oh!" And her eyes lit up. "I could get one for each of you. How lovely, the three of you matching it'd be adorable!" Thill's happy smile was infectious but also alarming in it's own way. Geralt just nodded, backing away slowly as she began going on and on about how the twins wore matching outfits from time to time and how endlessly adorable that was.  
"I'm not really one for scarves." Jaskier pouted running his hand across his throat. "Too constricting."  
"Then I'll take yours." Geralt offered up a bit awkwardly.  
"You'll wear . . . two scarves?" Jaskier cocked an eyebrow, there was a better question there, a much better question, he knew it, Geralt knew it and Thill was off purchasing scarves.  
"I'll wear all three if I want Jaskier." And there was a threatening tone not usually uttered in boutiques.  
"Don't get between a witcher and his scarves. Noted." The bard put his hands up in defense. "Tell me Geralt does your neck get that cold or are these scarves to serve another-"  
"Are you about to ask if I know how to kill a man with a scarf?"  
"No." Jaskier couldn't help but smirk at Geralt's riled state.  
"It sounds like you are Jaskier. Drop it."  
"Ok but if you are looking for ways-"  
"Drop. It." Geralt huffed.  
"Ta da!" Thill waited for Geralt to take the bag from her.  
"Thank-"  
"Cleanest they'll ever be." Jaskier muttered under his breath.  
"Thank you Thill." And Geralt threw a shoulder into Jaskier as he walked by, but it didn't shake loose the bard's knowing smirk. _'Dead. I wish I was dead.'_

"We've done a lot of walking. Is there anything you'd like to see Geralt?" And they were in one of those previously mentioned silly little restraunts, eating too little food that Thill paid too much for.  
"Thill?"  
"Yes?"  
"Did Anima like places like this?" He was thinking about Gulet, the next town they were headed. He doubted it had a place as doily heavy as here, but he wanted to do something nice for her, because he knew once there he had something very not nice to ask of her.  
"She sulked less than you if that's what you're asking. Anima wasn't big on meals, she would snack on sweets throughout the day her apetitie was always trash."  
"Hmm." That was true, she never really seemed up to eating when the time was right but he'd seen her eat three honeycomb consecutively, not exactly the ideal diet. "Can you take me somewhere she did like? I never . . . In the next place we go I'd like to take her somewhere." They'd never gone out on a real proper night, it just wasn't something practical or with purpose. They already had each other's company why spend coin just to have their company elsewhere.  
"Aw." And Thill's doe eyes nearly swallowed her whole face, loving everything about this moment.  
"Jaskier?"  
"Huh? What? Yes I'll leave you and your scarves alone that-"  
"I need you to help me . . . word something. I need to ask Anima something and I don't want to . . . mess it up." Geralt was rubbing the back of his neck, this room suddenly felt all too large and the table suddenly felt all too small.  
"Oh? What do you have to ask her?" If Thill leaned any closer her elbows would be in Geralt's pheasant.  
"I need to ask to leave her in Gulet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My aim is to (other than shill angst and smut like it's going out of style) Is to show growth in this story. I've had poor Geralt and Anima unsure of each other so long, I'd like to show a bit more confident side to their relationship.


	2. Gone by Gulet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt has gotten better with his words but his actions still speak louder.

"There's something wrong." Anima stopped walking, planting her feet as to imply none of them were going to continue ignoring this.  
_'Fuck.'_ They had been so close, Gulet was less than a half a day away. Something had given them away, no, someone. ' _Jaskier_.' His trudging funeral march steps and weary looks had just gotten worse and worse over days. One didn't have to be an empath to know something was off. She had likely realized it not a few steps onto the road but had been giving them the benifit of time to come clean.  
"Anima you've gone and spoiled it." Jaskier knew he was at fault here. Geralt was a vault of secrets, whereas it was a blessing and a curse that the bard wore his emotions on his sleeve. He would salvage this though, Geralt had asked for his help and he would do just that. "Geralt had plans to take you out on a romantic evening and-"  
"And the envy of a romantic evening has you looking equally as besotted as the time you thought Geralt had thrown your lute in the lake?" Anima was an expert at dancing around topics, she would not allow Jaskier to pirouette here.  
"Besotted is not the word you're looking for." Jaskier scoffed. Was she going to try and out phrase him? The audacity, the absolute gaul. "Anima, I just worry. He's never taken you on a night just for the two of you, he wants it to go well. I want it to go well. Any signs of distress you see-"  
"He hasn't." She couldn't out word the bard, she knew that, so she had to take his sentences down at the knee if she had any chance of getting through. "So why now? Why when there's such a worry of failure? Why in a town called Gullet?" She wasn't always as knowledgable or worldly as her travel companions but she always asked the right questions.  
"See you're pronouncing it like gullet but it's actually-" He knew how to buy time, he was born to be a distraction.  
"Jaskier."  
"Not everything has an alternative motive Anima you're being to cynical. Can't Geralt just want to be a good-"  
"Enough." Geralt was off Roach and like a man headed for the guillotine was walking over to the conversation. That word, normally when he barked it at Jaskier it was when a retelling of a contract had fled to far into fantasy, and that's exactly how he saw this. "It's true I wanted us to go somewhere, have a nice night. I wanted you to be in a good mood when I asked." Geralt went ghost faced at the look in Anima's eyes. There wasn't the preening hopeful look Thill had held at the same set up. The look on Anima's face he never wanted to see again, every feature was squared as if fully expecting him to walk over and bare knuckle punch her between the eyes, ontop of it, there was resolve, that she did not intend to flinch from the blow.  
"Ask me what Geralt? Ask me now."  
"I was going to ask you . . ." And he scratched the back of his head a bit nervously "After Gulet to travel with Jaskier to Ben Ard."  
"But not you."  
"Not me. I will head to Loc Munnie." There was a long silence, and before Jaskier could try to save the day Geralt spoke the first words that came to his head. "You're angry."  
"We'll make an empath of you yet." Anima was always eighty percent calm and twenty percent what one would naturally feel, sometimes only another empath or Geralt would have keen enough eyes to pick up on the smaller part, this was not one of those times.  
"Listen Anima he'll meet us at Ben Ard he has his reasons to go to the Loc. Before you came along Gulet was always where we parted paths, Geralt to the blue mountains me to Oxen-"  
"I'm not angry about the parting." Anima crippled Jaskier's sentence yet again.  
"Yes, yes abandonment issues who doesn't . . . wait what?"  
"I said I'm not angry about the parting. You have a solid reason that we should go one way and you the other right?" The anger as always, had fought desperately to the surface only to slowly begin to tuck away.  
"It's where I'll make any remaining coin before winter, to last us through the thaw of spring. It's between two smaller mountain ranges and-"  
"We would slow you down."  
"Yes." It was possible there'd be a contract or two beyond the Loc but there was no gaurentee. They almost expected him there, saving witcher's work till the end of the year. Even when he had forgon Kaer Morhen, this time of year he would go to the Loc, it was a safety net of sorts.  
"I'm an adult that can be reasoned with." Both men didn't quite understand how that followed in line with their conversation. "I'm not a child that needs bribing."  
"Anima it wasn't . . . I didn't mean for it to come off that way."  
"I would very much like to see what type of romantic evening could be had in a town called gullet." And now surely out of spite alone she pronounced it how she pleased. "I'd like to spend a special night with you most anywhere Geralt. It angers me that the first time would be as a way to butter me up into doing something instead of just asking me because you're worried I'd throw a fit."  
"Hmm." He understood what she was getting at. It would not only take they joy out of the first, it would make her skeptical of anytime after, always dreading some unpleasantry at the end of the night.  
"Are there boats involved?" She would always try to voice herself to Geralt but her aim wasn't to scold.  
"Huh?"  
"It's a Loc you're going to. Will you have to be on a boat?"  
"Likely."  
"That's all you had to say. I hate open water Geralt."  
"I told you we should lead with there will be water." Jaskier gave Geralt a shove.  
"He did . . . wrote out a list of ways to die in fresh water. It got dark." Geralt was happy she seemed keen to forgive but he still felt guilty. He knew being left was a fear of hers. That she, while agreeing, was less than thrilled with this arrangement. Not as to bribe but to reassure, he'd find a way to quell those fears, he set that challenge on himself. He would not leave Gulet till Anima could not fathom being left.  
"Speaking of dark and things we probably should have said earlier, Sozada told me something."  
"Who?" Jaskier was used to Geralt who had few acquaintances and even fewer friends, Anima's list of names he was supposed to know and or care about was growing needlessly long.  
"One of the other empaths. Fredrick's sweet on her but that's not the point. She's got skills beyond that of an empath, she has visions. Geralt she saw-"  
"Let me guess the end of the world? One of us dying? Never pleasent visions." As she suspected Geralt had little care or concern about prophesy. He did however care or concern himself with her moods and he knew she wasn't in the best so he stifled the scoff there. "Go on."  
"She said I'd wake up in bed with you, covered in blood. That I'd be holding a dagger but no one would think I did it . . .that was the . . . selling point."  
"Oh." Geralt nodded. "Could've told you that. You're too slow to get the drop on me. Even in my sleep." Geralt said with an oddly placed pride.  
"Geralt you're not even a little bit worried?" Jaskier watched for any thought or contemplation to roll over Geralt's face but it never did.  
"Means I can't wear my night shirts. Don't want to get blood on them." And he kissed Anima quickly almost cheekily before making his way back to Roach. "I try my best to avoid stabbings but if it happens." And Geralt doubted highly anyone would get the drop on him, even in his sleep.  
"Anima I will be the sound mind on Geralt's behalf. In Sozada's vision did Geralt die?"  
"No." Geralt answered confidently. "Witchers don't die in beds." And he began to canter forward, there was nothing left of worth to say on the matter.  
"Atleast after tonight we can be sure he'll be safe for a month. I won't be in his bed so the vision can't come true."  
"Safe from stabbings maybe. Geralt's not the only anchor of the two of you. He'll be an absolute menace, no sleep, no sex, no voice reminding him witcher's aren't imortal, final push till winter. Gods he'll be hopped up on six or seven of those awful potions of yours. I'd hate to be a foglet by the Loc." And Jaskier and Anima made their own, far less besotted walk to Gulet.

"We can still go somewhere if you'd like." Geralt was waiting by a stable near the entrance of town, he had been thinking on whether or not to scrap the idea entirely. "I'd prefer if you'd let me wait till-"  
"Till I forget about Gullet?"  
"Hmm." He'd find a way still, to show her she wasn't being left.  
"Could be a while."  
"We have time." His hand found it's normal place to twist idly in her hair.  
"We have time." She nodded, but there was hesitancy in her voice. He gave a short tug to her hair, snapping her from whatever incorrect thought she had gotten lost in.  
"Anima I do have to stress you keep pronouncing it Gullet . . . it's Gulet." Jaskier couldn't help by try to force some culture into the poor girl.  
"I've heard it both ways." Geralt shrugged. "I've never seen you two actively linger on the crest of a town. Go on." He placed a hand on Jaskier's shoulder and pushed.

"So what does one normally do in Gullet."  
"G . . . Well normally I'd be heading to Oxenfurt from here. So I'd play pieces I've been working on, Geralt would fact check-"  
"Waste my breath is what I do. Jaskier never fixes them." They were entering an Inn almost as familiar to Geralt as Thom's. There was a odd smell to the air. He smelled a witcher, it had happened before, he was more inclined to bump into a witcher this time of year, all finding somewhere to bunker up, but this wasn't Eskel, nor was it Lambert and it was faint, maybe a few days old. It was a ghost of an odor. He shrugged it off as unnecessary information. Something in the back of his head itched at the scent though, was bristled by it.  
"New songs?" Anima looked to the bard curiously. "I'm intrigued."  
"There's one for you in there Anima, I will be no less than crushed if I don't see you clearing a path on the floor at it."  
"Well seems we have some sitting to do. I'll go get us some drinks." Anima was acting if everything was normal, everything was alright.  
"She's taking this better than I thought." Jaskier was opening his case, fiddling at some strings and knobs.  
"She's scared." Geralt frowned.  
"Scared? Of what?"  
"That I won't be in Ben Ard."  
"Can you blame her?" Jaskier was still fiddling, tuning.  
"Do you doubt I'll be there?"  
"I long gave up counting on you being where you say you'll be. I know I'll find you when I find you, or when I need you to find me. Don't worry I'll be with her, I'll distract her if you're not there and you'll be there when you need to be. Hero's timing I'll give you that." And with a strum the bard was off.

It always took her terribly long to get drinks, too poliet, too patient, too short. By the time she found Geralt, or more exactly when she found herself nestled in his lap Jaskier had already played four new songs.  
"I said I'd be there didn't I?" Geralt's voice cut deep and bellow Jaskier's meoldy. He hadn't liked the bard's parting, that the witcher's word didn't mean as much as he thought.  
"You did." Anima nodded, but she wasn't listening, not entirely.  
"I meant it." And his hand held at her knee that was hopping along to what Anima was trying to deduce if it could be the song for her. "You know that right? I'll be there." And her answer caused his blood to leave him.  
"Don't make me answer that." Scared, she was simply scared. "You can never really know right? It'd be foolish to be that certain."  
"Hmm." Rarely did pragmatism anger Geralt, he normally thrived on it but while her words were logical they also found him wounded. He wanted to be somehow beyond logic and reason, an impossible feet but Geralt had a flare for the impossible.  
"I know you love me Geralt." And as always she'd place her feelings at the back of the queue, handle his first. "I don't question that. And I know you nearly always mean what you say. I don't doubt you intend to be there."  
"But?" It was bad timing, purely, this was the song for her, jaunty, begging her to flail and flitter around to. "Go." He released her knee. He half expected her to stay, to finish her sentence but she turned, kissing him in a passing sort of way before finding herself a space to dance along. It both pained and bemused him. Happy that she did indulge in her little wants, didn't feel obligated to nursemaid the emotionally stunted witcher, but pained because that was exactly what he was and without her guiding hand navigating not only his mood but hers was . . . challenging.  
"The unexpected happens Geralt!" She was far away, her movements were wild and patternless, her face was conflicted, twisted between enjoyment and lamenting. All those things hit Geralt poorly, until a mental lock clicked open and the practical witcher did what he did best.  
' _Actions not words.'_ He planned then he waited, then as Anima returned to him, he hunted.

He didn't allow her to just sit back down in his lap. He turned her waist till she faced him. His eyes were locked, determined, searching for clues. His knees parted, not vulgarly, just enough to pull her as close as the chair would allow.  
"Geralt?" Anima was a bit surprised by the open want in his stare.  
"Let me make you believe me?" And the hands at her waist squeezed firmer.  
"Geralt I believe you mean-"  
"You don't." And he stood, looming closer still, kissing her with an open hunger. "What sort of mood are you in?"  
"Freaks show some shame." Someone shouted.  
"Shut the fuck up Van." Another shouted back before joining Jaskier in a chorus. The bard had the crowd on the witcher's side. Geralt did pull back, he wasn't an animal, he had no desire to mount her among the masses. Despite that his breath was hitching, was growing hungrier.  
"In a mood to let me assure you?" His voice was low and lumbering, dark and nearly demanding, but asking all the same, he would hault here.  
"I'm . . . Geralt I'm not sure."  
"I know." And that upset him, denying his hunger was fine, something she had all the right in the world to do. But not knowing, the unsure state of her made him feel he had failed in some way. "I want you certian." His nails dug in, too firm, too harsh but he saw some fear leave her if only for a second, and he knew he was on the right trail.  
"I'll be good." Full stop, his hands left her waist and he heard her let out a pout of a sigh but still it was the right move, still more fear left her. He took her hand in his and pulled her along, paying the familiar Inn keeper for a room and finding their way to it.

The door locked and Geralt sat on the edge of the bed. "I haven't left yet." He stated finally, the hunger still graveled his voice but he had softened it. "I'm still here." He watched her close the gap between them. She kissed the top of his head, ran finger tips from both her hands down shoulders to the base of their blades.  
"I know." She kissed his forehead, pausing over his lips, hovering a beat too long. It was more than a hug, less than a grab, he held the weight of his arms over the small of her back. It wasn't hungry, it was tenative but her lips moved forward, pressed into his, kissed him lovingly. One arm left her back, hand resting, kneading a bit too firm at one of her shoulders. Her kiss matched his weight, she leaned in harder, she was on the cusp of wanting. This was all very touch and go, leaving them both on uneven footing.  
"I wont let you lack Anima." He let his teeth not bite but rake at the only bit of exposed flesh available, from the base of her throat, along her collar bone stopping right over her sternum.  
"I don't want to be a tease Geralt. I'm not sure I can . . . let go of my head."  
"You are always a tease Anima." He spoke right into her chest. "I don't mind." And he kissed up the trail he had raked down. "I'll leave teased if you'd like." He was getting much better with his words. A small groan of hers encouraged one of his own. "Will that make you believe? Asure you I'll rush to you?" The pressure of his hold increased by a degree. "I need to go." And a bit more. "I need to return to you more." And just a bit more.  
"Geralt . . ." Perhaps he had stolen the words right from her.  
"Hmm?" He felt her fingers that had leafed into his hair tilt his head back, maybe to give her space, air, he was holding tight. "I'll be good." And his hands went to let go but he felt her tighten so he paused. "Anima?"  
"No." She teetered, she was fully clothed, fully standing, but she teetered on baring want, baring want despite her head. She had fully intended to tuck back her need for Geralt's closeness, that made sense, she'd have to get used to it, he'd be gone for at least a month. What made no sense was to allow herself to drown in Geralt's hold, to affirm that's where safe and loved was. "Please."  
"I don't want to push Anima." He waited, she was still scared, and he didn't wish to leave her that way, maybe even worse. "I want to be . . . I want you to be in Ben Ard when I get there."  
"I will." She nodded and her eyes closed, just concentrating on the weight of him around her, letting it calm her mind.  
"I don't want you to forget Anima." And he bit down with a bit of a grunt, maybe holding a bit to long, maybe knowing the imprint of his teeth would linger on her shoulder for a while after he left. She tensed at the twinge of pain, then melted at the comfort of the pleasant patient kisses that mapped over the nipped skin. "Don't want you to forget that I can be good to you." He wasn't possessive but he never wanted to lose her to someone else, he knew if he ever did the blame would his, that he had failed in someway, rested on laurels and someone had swooped in and been better. "Let me remind you?" He had been doing an awful lot of talking, she had been terribly quiet. Had he lost the trail?  
"You are Geralt." It was a sweet pecking kiss. "You are good to me." You can't be sweet and scared, he'd seen people try, it never worked. Geralt gave a small smirk, he was still making the right choices and while he was after more asured affirmations this still pleased him.  
"Let me?" She was right, he liked to push, liked to ask for more from her.  
"No blindfolds Geralt." She was still aware that she wasn't in such a mood to lose her head entirely.  
"Sit." He could have taken that as a lack of trust but the way he saw it was entirely the opposite. His smirk didn't leave, only grew. She felt safe to tell him no and that was a trust all it's own. Another pouty sigh as his weighty hold adjusted for them to switch positions. It was her sitting on the edge of the bed and him standing at a bit of a distance. It wasn't just their positions that switched, normally she ended up bare first, but it was Geralt who was losing articles of clothing as the moments passed. It still got her face red in the way that warmed him fully. He could finally hear it, her breath growing heady in want, he saw her thighs clench looking for pressure. Now he was more confident, more sure of his motions.  
"Thill did get us scarves."  
"Huh?" Anima hadn't been prepared to listen, busy looking, admiring, committing to memory. He pulled out the silky black fabric and he saw panic in her eyes, saw the squirm.  
"I heard you Anima." He assured quickly, placing a calming hand at the base of her neck. He placed the fabric next to her on the bed. Kissing her till all the panic melted away, only then did he lift the tunic over her head.  
"Then . . ." And her voice was keening, it was Anima who was growing impatient with this somewhat elusive will they wont they foreplay but Geralt did not rush. "What is it for?" She forced her eyes to open, searching for Geralt's, for what he was after, what he wanted.  
"You hide Anima." Those dark not quite purring words were warm and wet across sensitive skin and budding nerves. "You hide that your scared." He was moving so slowly she almost didn't notice his gentle guide of her arms behind her back.  
"Geralt." It never failed to impress, how she found ways to blush deeper for him.  
"You don't have to be. I will always want to return to you." And his ran a clean shaven cheek all the way up her stomach, confirming while not as red, she was just as warm all over.  
"Geralt I-"  
"You know that." He nodded, kissing the words deep into her mouth. "You're scared the world will take me from you. Is that it?" And he pulled away, leaving her leaning forward in want, in need for for him and he began to feel that tingling in his skin again.  
"The worlds full of awful things." She nodded, she went to sit up to pull him close, to pull him into her. "Geralt I need-" And she heard him groan proudly at the word.  
"I'm worse." It was a dark statement, with a dark smirk to match, and he held her seated at the bed, arms still behind her back. "When I fight. When I hunt for what I'm after I'm worse than awful. Worse than the world." He kept talking and what he said sent Anima's mind tumbling. His words and bared teeth and too hard hold nearly begged any rational mind to deny him. "I want to . . . Can I . . ." And his hold on her arms tightened as he tried to think of the right way to ask.  
"You want to tie them?" Anima dragged him to his point, there was no need for everything to be so poetic, honestly some straight forward clarity was welcomed. He hummed a bit annoyed that he hadn't been able to manage the request himself, but before she could ask why as her arching brow implied he explained.  
"You hide your wants too Anima. You distract me, let me chase after my own tail. I don't want to leave, wondering if you hid one away. Don't want to leave you lacking. I want to find all of them myself and-"  
"There's more?" She smiled warmly. "You can Geralt." It baffled him, short phrases were where she was strongest. She had done more with that little line of permission, the trust, love and care she packed in just that had been more successful than anything he had uttered in an hour, it had them moving forward. The sparking and tingling in his skin grew, first that he was allowed, then at the action itself, the knots themselves were arbitrary, loose to be sure not to pinch but it's implication sent heat from Geralt's feet to the crown of his head. To trust him so fully, to allow herself so open, to a witcher of all things. He needed to hear it. "I have you Anima. No one else gives this to me. Does this for me. What do you need?" Words were fumbling out to kill the silence.  
"Geralt." And she let him push further, press her right into the mattress. "I need you Geralt." Another short perfect sucker punch puffed out in a breath. Her trousers were pulled from her as he was quick to heed her request, entering her with a hungry promising roll of Geralt's whole spine. Under a sure and steady rythm he felt her tense beneath him, he was atempting to prove he was both, worse than awful, better than good. This was not the love making of Lyria, this was deeper, harder and this time Geralt pushed, he wanted more, he had spoken so much, he needed to hear her. Each time he felt her start to get aclimated, content with a position he would twist and turn them finding new ways to hit at new angels, catching new and wonderful moans and purrs just for him. "Geralt un . . . untie me." Half way through her voice gave out, tightened to a close. He stopped, panting breaths stilled him, he had a hand at the knot but before he relented, he pushed.  
"Why?"  
"I can't do anything like this can't touch you can't . . . I won't be the only not left lacking."  
"Hmm." Did she think her bucks and churns had gone unappreciated, that her nearly cresting into him, calling out his name wasn't exactly what he wanted? He did as she asked, the fabric fell free but he moved them again. Her arms might as well have remained bound, the hold on her wrists, the pull at them as he speared into her from behind, left her no closer to reaching out and grabbing her witcher.  
"Geralt!" And it was loud, a perfectly wonderful shout, yes there was a twinge of anyonance that he had kept her hands at bay but mostly it was a blown out cry for release. "Please." And she was quaking and groaning and Geralt was nearly convinced to forgo the Loc and just stay in this bed forever.  
"Anima?" His tounuge had traced up the line of her spine, her body tensed with a shiver but the groan he heard was held, painfuly bit back. Two could play at this game he realized, if he was going to keep his body from her, she'd keep her sounds from him. "Fine." It was not a standoff that in anyway left him the victor. He rolled them seamlessly and for about the dozenth time. She finally had full range of motion, straddled atop him no inch of him was safe, just a barrage of lovely heavy petting and doting kisses. She brought them there in a rushed slick fever, pulled them tight and released, he didn't have to ask this time, she was louder, just for him, she couldn't not be, that was the benchmark goal, louder because nothing else made sense.

Maybe he was replaying the sound in his head, perhaps that's why he barely heard it, his senses still overloaded by the barrage.  
"Too much." It sounded hurt, and her body that had been splayed over him was curling in, growing small.  
"Anima I'm sorry." At first he was worried, and eyes widened in panic as he had no idea what to do with his hands. Perhaps he had pushed too far, greedily took too much, perhaps he hadn't treated her any better than any customer from her barmaid days and she was just now with her wits about her noticing. But before the black hole of exticential crisis could open up and swallow him whole he heard the second part of her sentence. "I'll miss you too much." Her face was nuzzling right at his heartbeat.  
"Hmm." And he tried to slow it further, it was the steadiness she liked about it. ' _Like an anchor.'_ Normally people found his slow heartbeat abnormal, which it was, alarming, which it should have been, not Anima, it soothed her.  
"It's your pulse not a parlor trick. Don't fiddle with it to amuse me. I like it just how it is."  
"Hmm." Geralt smiled, too amused himself to disguise it as a smirk.  
"Tired?" She could see his eyes linger in long blinks.  
"I will be." And he let his eyes close fully.  
"Will be?" Anima spoke softly, pulling the covers up over them. "Are you not satisfied with-"  
"Plenty satisfied. Plenty comfortable. This is . . . nice." His words were growing long and groggy. "Here is nice. I won't have you while I'm at the Loc, won't be able to sleep. I will be tired." The time he spent at the Loc could be described with many a word, nice and comfortable were no such ones.  
"Geralt?" She jostled him slightly and with a groan he opened his eyes, perhaps it was rude of him to begin dozing so soon, but he was trying to get as much rest as possible before there was none to be had.  
"Hmm?" He was out of words, he had given her all he had, it had been a pleasant mental drain.  
"You will be safe out there won't you?"  
"Nothing I do is safe." He didn't want he scared, but he also didn't want her wearing rose tinted glasses.  
"Fair." She thought of a more accurate wording. "You will be careful?"  
"I will do what it takes to do my job Anima. I will be . . . mindful." He tried to give her some assurance that while he would not skirt danger, he did not have a death wish.  
"Don't go taking too many potions to compensate for lack of sleep. It's not good on your organs and nerves, and not on an empty stomach, the acidic elements in there Geralt, they'll tear right through you."  
"You shouldn't have made them if you didn't intend for me to use them."  
"I intend for you to use them, just not all at once. Geralt you worry me. I'm already missing you, I'm already worried sick." Her words to any passer by would sound nagging, because they were and obvious which they should have been but to Geralt they were sweet. A little slice of nice he could tuck away and take with him to where it wasn't. A reminder that someone cared if he bled himself dry cross the continent, that earning coin didn't mean shit if he didn't come to Ben Ard in more or less one piece.  
"You miss me." He repeated the words back. "Worry for me." He paused, tilting her chin up so their eyes held, so he could confirm what he'd a year or so back he'd not even concider. "But did I convince you? Do you believe me?"  
"I believe in you." Another short little wallop, square in the chest.  
"Hmm." His eyes shut again, it would take pliers to reopen them. "I will miss you more Anima."  
"Go to sleep Geralt you're delirious."


	3. The killer awaits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio reunites and if three's a crowd, Kaer Morhen's getting mobbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've finally done it, put too many characters in one story, so I apologize if this and the next chapter seem a bit long and cluttered I'm trying my best to reign it in while still writing what I want.

_'One month and six days.'_ He was convincing himself that it was immeasurably better than a month plus a week. That had to count for something. He was in Ben Ard, he simply had to find them. It was apparent all those sweet nags Anima had laid on him had one by one been ignored and it was causing his search to be far less effortless than it should have been. _'Fuck.'_ His head was pounding, a combination of what surely was a concusion from a square punch to the temple from a rock troll along side a come down crash from any manner of mixed potions he had taken liberally as the days wore on. It had his senses both heightened and swirling, and his tiredness made all that hard to decode. ' _Again?'_ He couldn't tell if his nose was playing tricks on him. It was the smell again, of days gone witchers he couldn't remember or place, again it bristled but again he tossed it aside as unhelpful information. _'Jaskier.'_ Geralt caught the scent of his bard and all aches and ailments would simply have to wait.

He hopped of Roach, thanked her for putting up with his nonsense and tried to keep any obvious eagerness out of his stride.The bard was always easier to find, he hit every sense higher and harder than Anima's more subtle notes. Opening the door to another familiar Inn he was right there, practically waiting for him. "Geralt!" He stood from an unpromising game of gwent and met the witcher at the door. "You must be doing awful." He took Geralt's chin in his hand, tilting his head from side to side, a questioning look in his eyes.  
"Why's that?" Geralt swatted him away.  
"You're smiling. It's . . . alarming." Jaskier wished the smile was a welcomed sight, wished Geralt just walked around happy from time to time but he simply didn't, a half cocked smirk now and again but this smile seemed . . . off. "Concussion? Or delerium? Geralt sit, eat something."  
"Where is she?" Geralt ignored the offer, scanning the bar and tables for Anima. It was so bright, loud and pungent here, he could hardly stand it, let alone hone a sense further.  
"She's in the room I'd assume. Geralt you'll never run out of potions as long as you live. She's been quite the quiet little busy bee in there."  
"Ugh." Geralt's stomach flipped. He couldn't even tell if he was hungry, his stomach sloshed but it also grumbled, he was out of tune with himself.  
"We should leave soon, I believe we're being haunted Geralt."  
"Haunted?" Geralt asked then shook his head. He couldn't, not now, he'd hunted enough, he needed a break.  
"Not even curious? Anima your witcher is broken!" Jaskier shouted much to Geralt's dismay. He was surprised when no door opened, when she didn't burst out running towards him. "Oh come now, I prank his arivial once and now you pretend you can't hear me?" His call grew more shrill and Geralt had to take a step back.  
"You did what?"  
"She was so long in the face by the month mark, she'd frown her self wrinkled if I didn't get a smile out of her for atleast a moment. And oh ho let me tell you it was for but a moment, I thought she'd skin and eat me."  
"If I wasn't so tired I'd skin and eat you. Which room?"  
"You can't-"  
"If I had found her do you think I'd be asking?"  
"Testy apart, the both of you. Third room on the right."

He knocked, and waited, then knocked and waited. "Are you angry with me too?" He finally spoke, she could be angry all she'd like but he needed to see her, that would fix some of all that was going on in his head he was sure of it.  
"Geralt?" And hearing his name just the right way for the first time in over a month caused him to let out a stale breath of relief. "Fuck." He could hear a glass break, smell some earthy odor coat the floor boards. "Shit." The door swung open and she didn't look angry, more puzzled if anything. "You're here." It was a stressed little laugh.  
"I am." He nodded. "Can I come in?" He was a bit disappointed to be honest, she didn't seem as excited to see him as he had imagined.  
"In! In! Oh . . . here." She picked up one of the vials she hadn't kicked all over the floor.  
"No potions." He shook his head as his stomach flipped again.  
"Please. You'll feel better I promise."  
"Hmm." Worst he would do would be vomit, and it'd been ages since that happened, and maybe if he did what she asked, she'd be happier to see him. With a hesitant glance he drank it down.  
"Better?" She was watching him, carefully and from a noticeable distance.  
"Anima I-" It was better, his head still throbbed and everything was still too much but his stomach stopped flipping and his muscles stopped twitching. "Thank you."  
"Do you need something? Food? Drink? You forgot your bedroll Geralt, you must be tired. Lie down." She was nervously moving all matter of herbs and bottles to clear a path for him along the floor.  
"I didn't forget it." He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Placing his chin in the crook of her neck he closed his eyes and let his senses rest on her. She was always pleasantly subtle, not over powering, light rytmic breathing, soft to the touch, smelling of dried fruit and cracking tea leaves.  
"I came to Gullet with one bedroll I left with two." She pointed at it, it was crumpled in a makeshift pillow on her bed.  
"Figured if I wasn't going to use it why pack it." That did calm him slightly, odd as she was acting she had missed him, clung to something that had reminded her of him.  
"You haven't slept?!" But she wasn't melting in his hold, she was rigid and stiff.  
"I rested." He shrugged aching shoulders. "Anima if you're angry just . . . get on with it. You're so-"  
"Angry?" She pulled out of his hold and it was a punch right to his gut. "No I . . ." She placed her hands up to his cheeks and kissed him softly, but again she pulled that subtle touch straight from under him, confusing him further. "I'm not angry. I'm happy . . . thrilled to see you Geralt I just-" He cut her off reclaiming her lips.  
"Just what?" It was a tired groan as his forehead laid against hers. "I'll fix it. Just let me fix it, then lie down with me?" Was it the haunting Jaskier had omniously mentioned earlier?  
"Fix it? No! There's nothing to fix. Get ready for bed Geralt I'll be right there." It took a minute to compute, she was walking away, leaving him. He reached out and grabbed her wrist.  
"Stay." He was so fucking tired, he didn't want to change into sleep wear or eat a snack to settle his stomach he just wanted to collapse on the bed, pull her tight to his chest and sleep.  
"One minute, just one I promise."  
"It can wait." He didn't want to wait one minute more.  
"Just-"  
"What?! What is it that can't wait?" He didn't mean to get short but he couldn't comprehend that she wasn't mad, there was nothing to fix and yet here they were, awake. It got worse. "Are you crying?" He let go of her wrist. Now on top of physically feeling like shit, he had to feel like shit to the core of his very being. "Anima I'm sorry. Go on . . . I . . . take some . . . minutes. Just come back? Please? I'll apologize I just-" He ran a hand through his hair, trying to remember the last time he had been the cause of her tears.  
"Well what's there to take a minute for now?" She chuckled as she wiped the corners of her eyes.  
"Huh?"  
"I was trying to spare you the water works  
Geralt." Her face tilted up as she tried to blink them out of view. Then it was on him, her face clunking against rigid leather armor, nestling where there was no rightful place to nestle, and he could smell it, the salty bite to her tears. "I was so . . . relieved . . . to see you." And he could hear both her lungs empty out. "I knew I would . . ."  
"Anima you're allowed . . ." He stopped, later when he was of more sound mind. "tears and all? Just lay down with me?" He was pulling off armor and she was leaning in more and more heavily as if bones were actively leaving her.  
"Yes." And the affermation was cracked and heartbreaking but it was everything he needed. They colapsed on the bed just as he wanted but he still smelled those salty tears.  
"Anima why-"  
"Shhhh." Just as he had pictured she was pulling at his tunic, wedging herself closer, there wasn't a bit of him she hadn't missed, she didn't want to hold. "Sleep Geralt. You need your rest." It was siren sweet, begging him to give up consciousness and wash out.  
"Anima? Why . . . hmmm." His body seemed to get the signal that work was over and he felt tired muscles go warm and heavy. "I don't expect you to be stone." She felt cold so he pulled her closer still.  
"Not stone . . . just . . . I want to be strong? I don't want to be weak Geralt."  
"Hmm." He didn't have a poetic well willed response for her. "Just be . . . with me . . . that's strong enough. Crying isn't . . . I don't want it but. Honesty Anima . . .you're always honest and that's strong in itself." He wanted more, better words, tomorrow first thing in the morning, he was just so fucking tired.  
"Honestly you need sleep." And it was wounding but right.  
"Yes."  
"Sleep Geralt."  
"Stay?" This was as honest and open as Geralt would get in his current state. A bit repetitive but he was trying, unsure if his eyes closed she'd sprint out to let tears flow outside of his gaze. "Tears, snot whatever just . . . stay?" He had missed her, he wanted long flowing sonnets to hit her and explain exactly how he missed her but all he had were brutish holds and pleads to stay.  
"I love you Geralt." And it was everything that had been lacking, her stretching and straining to be on him.  
"Cry, laugh, fucking spit for all I care. Don't leave this spot Anima. I'm exhausted I'm . . ." He almost desperate enough to say weak. "I need you to just . . . stay? Please? lay with me Anima I-" He was trying, a bit too tired and in a way a bit too needy, to tell her she was wrong to think her small tears of joy should have kept her from him, that anything should keep her from him.  
"Rest Geralt." She cooed as if a beat was never there to be missed. "You deserve rest love." He wanted to fix the tears, wanted to give anything she'd lacked for a month, wanted to hold her tighter and better but want all he liked, his body needed more, about three days more. He, boiled down to the root of it, needed sleep. "Eyes closed Geralt. Everything else will wait."

Three days were what he needed, two days were what Anima and Jaskier could convince him to take. That sleep was a tease, he was after true rest and now that autumn was in it's full throws he knew he was close to grasping it. Rest was near but they still had miles to go and that gave Jaskier miles of silence to fill. He started up again once they had walked around the Lixela river. "Can a specter . . . follow someone, chase them? I heard they can't cross moving water." He had a topic of choice as of late.  
"Again with the ghost stories?" But of all trivial topics at least those of ghouls and goblins were ones the witcher could speak to. "Tell me bard did the sight of you intangled with his wife finally kill a man? His phantom chasing you through brothels? Short of that or maybe an . . . Penitent? Specters tend to be tied to locations not people. Though I suppose an Umbra or a Hym . . ." He really was putting some thought to it. "What did it look like?"  
"Well I really didn't get a good look at it."  
"No one ever does." Geralt rolled his eyes, responding dryly. How many times had he been contracted to chase a shadow? "Your eyes were probably playing tricks on you Jaskier." Geralt tried to sound less bothered and more comforting but his voice always carried a note of bother.  
"No" Jaskier shook his head. "It takes more than bumps in the night to startle me. Anima tell Geralt, he'll believe you and your superior sight. She agreed with me Geralt it was worst in Hagge, just right over our shoulders I tell you!"  
"Hmm." He didn't sense anything following them, but Jaskier was adamant and he'd rather scare away shadows than be blindsided by a bargest. "Anima did you get a good look at Jaskier's ghost?"  
"They weren't ghosts." Anima answered shortly but she knew this conversation was about to get long, all the way to Kaer Morhen long.  
"They? As in plural? And Ha . . . there was something chasing us . . . Wait Anima what was chasing us?" Jaskier spoke more through them than with them.  
"They weren't chasing . . . just . . . watching. There was no impending doom." Anima tried not to let hysteria blow it out of proportion.  
"You managed to avoid answering a single question." Geralt found her elusiveness more alarming than Jaskier's genuine alarm. It was a trend he was aware of, that while Anima was honest when asked, she very much had to be asked.  
"Witchers. Two witchers." She conceded, she was being a bit too stingy with her responses.  
"Two witchers? Well why didn't we see them? Why were they following us? Are they headed to Kaer Morhen too? Was one of them Eskel?" Again Jaskier needed little imput for his narrative.  
"How the fuck should I know? They're heartbeats not coat of arms. They were witchers cause you can't mistake that sort of heartbeat and it wasn't Geralt or Lambert I know that so . . . maybe your wolf in waiting was stalking you from a distance." Anima tried to end on an optimistic chuckle, glancing up at Geralt, he hardly seemed amused.  
"Went from ghosts to witchers. From watching to stalking. When were you going to tell me about this Anima?"  
"Ideally? Never. My death bead if it continued to nag at my conscious. I was really trying to avoid . . . this." She waved a hand in the general direction of the scowl firmly etched on Geralt's face.  
"Hmm." Geralt pulled Roach to a stop. He took a long breath through his nose trying to detect that scent that had bristled him months back. A witcher hiding their tracks truly was a shadow in the night. He doubted Eskel would stalk them from the bushes, nor would he likely be in the company of another witcher. Geralt did not know who was circling them but it did not sit well that his companions were the ones they seemed enamored with. "Stay close."

He had very much meant those words. Over the next week whenever Jaskier or Anima stepped out of his eyeline he was swift to find them, sniff angrily for a scent he didn't care for. Every now and again catching a hint of it and then reminding them. "Stay close." The nights were worse, Anima's sleep was broken roughly eight times each, some snaped twig that could have been under a foot or undefined rustling that could have been a grabbing fist, jostled a growl out of Geralt, had his arm pull her tighter against his chest.  
"Sleep Geralt." She would have to half coo, half groan. "Eyes closed." She would kiss at his heart. "I'll stay."  
"Hmm." And he would give a half apologetic sigh, card his hands through her hair and try to comply. Day in and day out, smell or no smell Geralt was in a constant state of bristled. He had a narative all his own, witchers only loomed over something they wanted, they were hunters first and foremost, would travel to the edge of the world for whatever they were on the trail of and these mystery witchers were looming all too close to those Geralt would not so easily part with.

Another two weeks went about that way, until they did find another witcher, well first they found a forktail. "Stay close?" Jaskier watched Geralt's eyes follow the deep dives and swishing tail of the beast.  
"Just . . ." And it dove again, spooking Roach enough to buck and snort. "We're going, we're going, relax." He ran a hand down her mane trying to get her to move forward. "It's a menace but not a terror." He wanted them to pass under it, leave the youngling be, it wasn't something worth killing, but someone disagreed. He heard a crosbow bolt wiz through air. "Move." The Forktail was hit and was going to crash, young or not he'd rather them not be under it. With a thud it landed but it was mearly in a state of daze, thrashing and snapping wildly, turning it's ire to Geralt.  
"Are you going to kill it or feed your kittens to it?" The crossbow weilder came into view.  
"Lambert?" And Geralt had to shift out of the way of the forktail's namesake. "Kittens?" He took a quick glance over his shoulder and saw Anima pulling Jaskier up onto a tree branch. _'Better.'_ It would be fool hardy for them to stand and wait for the draconoid to strike, but running off would just make them meals on the move, so long as he kept it grounded, the tree had been a smart choice.  
"Go on kitten, use your powerful spells to tame the beast." Crossbow over his shoulder and with the benefit of higher ground Lambert had the air to mock.  
"Fuck straight off Lambert." Anima bit back.

Geralt did finally get in a few solid thrust of his blade, and eventually the forktail stopped snapping and slithering, just cried out and died. "Thanks for the help." He grumbled up at Lambert who was still just standing as if he was posing for a portrait.  
"Don't mention it. Safe to come out now." He barked over his shoulder as he began a leisurely saunter towards his brother. Equally leisurely Lambert's horse followed his footsteps, there was someone else at the reigns and that was distracting enough for Geralt to stop the skinning of the forktail.  
"A human? Is she lost?" Geralt cocked his head to the side, what was a human doing out so far from civilization?  
"You think I was about to listen to you fuck your way wall to wall through the fortress? If uncle Ves is letting whores into Kaer Morhen I'm not going to ride the winter with blue balls."  
"Charming." Geralt rolled his eyes, he wouldn't let Lambert goad him into anger so easily.  
"You told Vesemir we were coming?" Only then did Geralt remember Anima and Jaskier were still up a tree.  
"Witchers don't like surprises." He stood beneath them. "Drop down I've got you." He held out his arms and Anima pushed herself off the branch. He should have caught her effortlessly but he fumbled. Lambert had yanked at the back of Geralt's collar, pulling him just enough away so Geralt only got half a hold on Anima. She didn't crash to the ground, but her ankle rolled under her weight as gravity took more of her than Geralt.  
"Fuck." She curled in at the sharp pain, fully out of Geralt's hands, clutching both of her own at the strained joint.  
"What is wrong with you?" Geralt spun and shoved at Lambert with force.  
"Relax. Just playing around." Lambert scoffed, hands up in defense.  
"You haven't been funny in four decades, you aren't funny now." Geralt gave another shove.  
"Thought kittens landed on their feet, my bad. Bards got a cold whore's got a bum ankle. Looks like your the joker Geralt if you think you're getting them up the mountain."  
"Hmm." Geralt wanted to shove again, but he took a deep breath and did Lambert one worse, ignored him, turning to Anima who was sitting in the dirt, boot off, ankle working itself comfortable. "How is it?"  
"Stingy and sore. I'll live." The boot was popped back on in a flash. "Help me up?" She reached out her hand and Geralt lifted her, grimicing as he watched her shift her weight to the opposite foot. "You've got a cold Jaskier?" They watched the bard dangle himself long till he was down from the tree.  
"Me? No I'm fine."  
"You're catching one." Geralt had noticed the morning before, heard the slight hoarseness in the back of Jaskier's words, smelled the sweat of a starting fever.  
"I think I'd . . . who is this?" Jaskier ignored the tickle in his throat and pointed at the mute mounted woman just behind the second witcher. He had missed most of the conversation at ground level, mind in the clouds tossing around rhymes and lines of their ever harrowing journey along the mountain side.  
"Lambert's bringing a whore to Kaer Morhen." Geralt shrugged. "Anima get on Roach." He put her arm over his shoulder and more or less began dragging her.  
"Geralt I'm fine. Also don't be crass I'm sure she has name."  
"Sure that she does. That's how I was introduced." He lifted her over onto the saddle. "Slow and proud is still slow." He gave a small tug at Roach's reigns, this had all been an abundant waste of time, he was nearly home.  
"Is Eskel bringing someone?" Jaskier had also missed the blatantly ignoring Lambert cue.  
"Doubt it. Means he'd have to convince someone he's got more character than wet bread." Lambert had digs a plenty.  
"He's got character you hedge born brute." Jaskier didn't mind throwing dirt back. "I'm sure you've paid for this lovely maiden's company in charm."  
"Speaking of which. What's got you so flush with coin you can pay her winter wages? Is that a thing? I was never unpopular but I never had someone purchase a whole season." Anima found this arrangement odd at best, improbable and sketchy at worst.  
"Maybe not popular enough." So the woman did speak, silky curved ends to every word. "Jealous?"  
"You don't know Lambert well or you wouldn't ask that question." Geralt guided Roach past the other horse.  
"I offered. His brothers were to have companions for the winter. Why not him? In exchange he will escort me to Marnadal valley in spring. I wanted a change in scenery."  
"Well . . ." Anima still hadn't heard a name.  
"Lidrie." Her name wound off her tounuge just as pretty as her previous words.  
"Lidrie. I admire you for finding a way to get what you want but there are easier ways to see the world than-"  
"How much of the world did you see before offering your services to the white wolf? He clearly didn't bring you for your battle prowess, not exactly light on your feet. Your strengths lie just as south as my own." The lot of them, just bared teeth, smiles but snide ones, primed in tight jaws.  
"Services are bought and sold Lidrie. May you one day feel the joy of giving your strengths to someone freely. To someone who apreciates what a clearly strong woman you are." Anima would not patronize Lidrie's profession, as no one would soon forget it had been her own for some years but still she would not let her and Geralt's relationship be equated to Lambert and Lidrie's transaction. While Anima thought she had been quite diplomatic in her choice of words Lidrie's face had gone from sultry and superior to resentful, as if Anima was throwing her freedom in the woman's face as a point of mockery.  
"Maybe we should go." Jaskier wasn't sure if the witchers were waiting for their women to joust or what but the bard was feeling cold, lonely and a bit under the weather, he wanted them to move on.  
"Bards right." Lambert shocked everyone with those words. "The killer awaits." And he hopped on behind Lidrie and sped past the trio.

"The killer?" Jaskier sighed, this did not sound promising.  
"Witcher's trail." Geralt explained.  
"Of course what else would it be called? Wouldn't want even the path to Kaer Morhen to sound inviting." Anima smirked.  
"Hmm." She had been uncomfortable the last time she was here, unwelcomed, and Lambert's song and dance was not promising much of a different experience this go around. "Anima don't-"  
"Relax Geralt. You're not the only one who enjoys a challenge. Your winter will be enjoyed if I have to win over every witcher, whore and wyren this side of Cintra." She was confident, she had to be, she remembered Triss' warning. ' _Your first mistake is not being sure. Witcher's hate uncertainty. When dealing with them you have to be sure, even if you're not.'_ So Anima would fake it till she made it. The witcher's didn't have to love her but they would have to accept her pressence. Geralt deserved the familiar healing properties of being home, and she would not let the pack's disapproval of her spoil that for him. ' _One at a time.'_ She tried to mentally dissect the task as the incline grew and the air got thinner. _'I have all winter. Start with Eske_ _l. He dislikes me the least.'_

"Lambert you prick you said he was sick." The least resentful Witcher was sitting by the fireplace staring at the door as it opened.  
"He is sick." Lambert tossed back from his spot neck deep in a crate.  
"Your words were: not long for this world. Geralt. Anima. Jaskier." Eskel had greeted them each but his eyes had been scanning the bard scrupulously throught it all.  
"He's human!" Lambert shouted again. "Not long is relative. Few days, few years either way it's not long."  
"Well my years however fleeting will be cherished not cursed at." Jaskier rolled his eyes and took Eskel's hand placing the back of it to his forehead. "See I'm-"  
"Running a fever." Eskel frowned a bit but then let that hand run up through the bard's hair tusseling slightly. "But there are worse ways to be than warm to the touch."  
"I don't feel as ill as you are all so sure I am but maybe to be on the safe side we could sit back by the fire, you looked quite comfortable there. We could have some tea with . . . Anima what would I take now that I'm clearly dying?" Jaskier was smiling keenly for Eskel. The bard had few shy or subtle bones about him. He didn't need the respect or acceptance of any other witcher so long as he had the attention of the one he was after.  
"Clearly dying huh? Well normally I'd say honeysuckle would suit fine but I don't have any one me so I can offer some white myrtle-"  
"You a fuckin healer now too?" Lambert's head popped out of the crate.  
"She's a lot of things now if you'd shut your mouth and let her speak now and again." Geralt had his hand on Anima's back, reminding her that this time she hadn't been thrown to the wolves alone.  
"Differnt but the same. They just don't teach jokes here do they? Yet to meet a witcher that understands humor. You find nothing funny . . . Lambert must think he's hilarious cause he just keeps those flat falling jabs up." Anima shook her head. Lambert honestly did mean most of his words in jest and Anima was growing aware that there wasn't nearly as much venom to his words compared to when they first met but it would have been nice to get three whole feet in the door before he laid into her again. "Anyway. White Myrtle in your tea will help."  
"If you can hold off not dying a few days more when I take Anima up the mountains I'll grab you some honey suckle." Geralt added.  
"Hiking up mountains? Sounds breath taking I'd join you but you see I'm-"  
"Dying Jaskier, we've heard. Go tell Eskel all about it." And Geralt smiled, for one Jaskier did just that, laced his fingers inside Eskel's and began speaking about an illness that nearly took his gifted voice away as a child. Eskel seemed amused enough, nodding and hummimg in acknowledgment as the story brought them to the fireside. The second source of that smile was the squeeze to his own hand by Anima, he knew that if all else was as sour as Lambert's reception, she would enjoy that, they would have that. They could have a day out in the snow, and there would at least be one place that pleased them both, that felt home to both. "Where's Vesemir?" Geralt only then noticed that they were one wolf short.  
"Guiding our other guests up the mountain. It's gonna be a full fucking house." Lambert had his arms full of copious amounts of saltpeter.  
"What's that for?" Anima had seen the ingredient in many an alchamist shop but never read a potion that called for it. Lambert did not seem enthused to answer and just sat back down to the table.  
"Other guests?" Geralt was less easily ignored.  
"Letho and Kolgrim. Old man must be getting lonely. Open the door for anyone who knocks."  
"More witchers?" Anima could feel Geralt tense in a way she couldn't at first glance pinpoint, it wasn't anger, wasn't possessiveness. It finally came to her, Geralt was tensing in uncertainty.  
"Vipers." That bristled feeling shot right up the back of his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As this story does get a bit bloated and busy I've got a question? Is there a want for a chapter or two to highlighting on Jaskier / Eskell or is it prefered that they remain more a background supporting role to my Geralt / Anima centered plot.


	4. Main hall mayhem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's home for winter and Vesemir's in over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tend to lean too heavily on brooding, I thought I'd try something a little more light hearted and fun for this chapter.

"Look at those two." Anima was pointing over at Jaskier and Eskel.  
"Hmm?" Geralt's eyes had been glued to the door, waiting less than patiently for Vesemir and the Vipers, he was all but sure they were the days off witchers he'd been getting wiffs of lately. "They seem cozy." Geralt would have to ask Eskel how he did it. How he was soft with so little strain. He had been kind and open to Anima when she needed a friend and he seemed to be opening so easily and effortlessly in just the right way for Jaskier.

"So I lose my footing. Slip down the mountainside, up to my smalls in snow and stones. I was throttled by the unforgiving elements but on my way down I caught the sight of the most beautiful-" Jaskier's shoulder brushed against Eskel's and he expected a jump, or maybe even a shove off but none came.  
"I'm listening." Was the response he got. "What did you see?" Eskel didn't seem startled or annoyed, just interested.  
"Well . . ." And Jaskier got a bit hesitant, he was used to telling stories of Geralt's grand heroics. He had for some, now regrettable, reason had started a story of his most recent travel to Oxenfurt. He began to wonder if this tale would have too few beasts and battles to hold the witcher's attention. "Have you ever seen an albino panther?"  
"I have." Eskel nodded, of course he had, he was a witcher none of the world was new or surprising to them. "Is that what you saw?" But Eskel's interest didn't seem to be waning. "What'd it look like? Tumbling down throttled by elements?" Jaskier's words were new, over selling and surprisingly directed squarely at him and that's what made the story to Eskel.  
"Well. . . " Confidence rekindled Jaskier let his head bump into Eskel's shoulder, again waiting for a jump or a swat.  
"Short of undoing my trousers in the middle of the hall. I'm not going to startle bard."  
"Huh?"  
"I focus on one thing at a time." Eskel thought he was being clear but Jaskier still looked confused. "Not fighting for or against the whole world. Attention spread thin like the others." He elaborated. "That's why they snap or spook. Maybe I'm focused to a fault but whatever has my attention, has my full attention. So it doesn't startle me."  
"A man after my own heart, a captive audience." Jaskier placed a palm on Eskel's knee.  
"Don't let that give you ideas Jaskier."  
"What?" He went to pull away, perhaps he misread the calmness in Eskel as compliance. A large hand clamped over his own. "Bout undoing my trousers in the hall. Don't much care if Geralt or Lambert see me enjoy your company. If Vesemir walked in with my dick to the breeze I don't . . ."  
"I will learn discretion I suppose. So long as I hold your focus." Eskel would have to learn that Jaskier read so much into words, tore down and rebuilt phrases in his head, he was taking in information where none was uttered. He wanted Eskel's full and undivided attention, he'd steal this witcher from all others, he'd truly captivate his audience, and he could do so brazenly as he pleased . . . with some reverence infront of Vesemir. "Can I ask you something?"  
"Thought you were going to tell me about your panther?" Eskel wanted the spotlight on the bard not him, he preferred more a spectators spot than an orator.  
"I will but-"  
"Ask." But he didn't want to seem a bore, to be unworthy of the enamored gaze and lingering company of the bard.  
"Did you . . . I . . . It'll sound vain of me." Jaskier was second guessing, but he had to know, he was terribly curious. "Since you last saw me, have you thought of me at all?"  
"I focus on one thing at a time." Eskel replied thoughtfully. "Normally focused on a werewolf or some water hag. My job is what I focus on most." Eskel clearly had not spent months pining for another night with the bard. "When there wasn't something to focus on, sometimes I thought of you." But Jaskier was impossible to completely forget and better yet Eskel's smirk and shrug implied he didn't want to.  
"Oh?" And Jaskier was content with that answer, he was born to be a distraction and Eskel viewed him as the best sort. Something fun and flirty but not overstaying it's welcome, like a feast among a famine. "In what ways did you think of me?" Jaskier was all the more confident, he went in to lay a reminding kiss to the witcher but then his face snapped back.  
"Jaskier?" Eskel had been wrong, the bard could make him jump. He had been waiting patiently, letting Jaskier get his jitters and stage fright out, he had fully expected the bard to show him a bit of affection, he had not expected the pull. Jaskier turned his face and sneezed. "Right." Eskel maybe had been too eager, maybe too willing to let the bard perform, he had forgotten. "You're sick." And Eskel stood.  
"It's not like you'll catch it." Jaskier didn't want Eskel to leave. "I assure you my stories and shows will be no less thrilling despite the off cough." It seemed as if Eskel doubted he would be half as entertaining in less than prime form.  
"Better safe than sorry." Eskel saw a frown burrow in Jaskier's face. "I'd rather you sing well than suffering is that so awful?"  
"No it's not awful. It's kind I just-"  
"You're just going to sit there while I make tea. I won't lose interest in the time it takes to boil water. You still haven't told me about the panther."  
"You are quite different Eskel." Jaskier had long since forgotten how to blush but this was close.  
"Does that bother you? That I'm not like Geralt or Lambert?" Eskel hovered for a moment.  
"I've told you before. If I had wanted Geralt I would have him. I don't hold back from my desires." A scoff was heard from the White Wolf's direction, but Jaskier just gave a dismissing wave at his friend who rolled his eyes in answer, not choosing to battle the bard on matters of the purely hypothetical.  
"You never told me that."  
"Oh right that was a dream . . . or a vision or-"  
"I think the fever's going to your head Jaskier. Just collect your thoughts, you can tell me all about your desires when I get back." It was another all too platonic tussle of Jaskier's hair, and that the bard was not content with it. Just as he stated he went after what he desired, but he could also have some reverence about him. He reached out and grabbed, giving a squeeze to not quite Eskel's ass but high enough of the back of his thigh that there was nothing platonic about it. Eskel let out a chuckle and finally walked away from Jaskier.  
"Relax bard you have all winter." Geralt's eyes found their spot back at the door.  
"And I will enjoy all winter, not scowl at the wood work like some people."

"He's right you know. What's got you so riled? Yes they're likely the same witchers but so what? Are you worried I'll run off with a viper? I'm not in the market to collect witchers Geralt. Go chat with Lambert or find something in the pantry. The door will be there. The witchers will show whether or not you burn door with your stare."  
"It's not your motives that are . . .concerning me." Geralt could tell they still had a ways to go, Vesemir, Letho, Kolgrim, he would have noticed them on their heels. "Their motives concern me because I don't know what they are."  
"Their motives could be to pickle me like a turnip what is scowling going to do about it?"  
"My scowl can do more than most." Geralt grumbled but finally he sighed, finally he blinked. "What would you have me do?" She had a point, this was just posturing and witchers shouldn't posture.  
"Show me around? While I'm sure your bedroom is the crown jewel of this place I imagine there might be other areas you've missed so terribly?"  
"Hmm." He stood with a bit of a grumble over being so squarely put in his place. "Lot of stairs hows your ankle?"  
"The question isn't how is my ankel. It's how is your patience to walk slowly up stairs with me Geralt?"  
"I could just carry you." He counter offered.  
"You'd rather carry me than walk slowly?"  
"Yes." Geralt nodded rather too assuredly. He didn't wait for her retort, scooping one hand under her knee and another along her shoulders he lifted her. Anima shrieked at the quick loss of her bearings. "See? Easy." And they chuckled for a moment, until it became clear he actually intended to walk around this way.  
"Geralt they'll think I'm an invalid."  
"They can think you a pickled turnip for all I care."  
"For fucks sake." Lambert could take no more, Eskel getting Jaskier tea, Geralt carrying Anima through the hall. "Have fun with your kittens I'm going to go blow something up!" It had been bombs that Lambert had been tinkering around with at the table.  
"That reminds me where did Lidrie go?" Anima scanned the room and the Raven haired woman of the night was nowhere to be seen.  
"Who can keep track of you people! You just run in like you own the place!" Lambert shouted as he shoved all his supplies under one arm and stormed out of the fortress.

Kaer Morhen had been built to hold 50 or more wolves in it's prime. In the moment it was just big enough for three. Eskel listened to Jaskier's tales as the bard slunk more and more into the Witcher's lap, reaching out and touching him, kissing him when he may normally have paused for dramatic effect. Eventually pauses grew longer and Jaskier's tongue had less of a way with words, more content to map out a mouth that had been more on his mind than it had any right to be. Eventually he genuinely did have to breath but before silence could become uncomfortable Eskel would toss out. "You were telling me about the panther."  
"See I never get to tell this story. Anima is already terrified of the more basic bits of nature Banshees and vampires no problem but. . . Oh have I told you-" And the cycle would start all over again.

Geralt found it rather important to stop at near every window they passed, eventually allowing her to walk slowly between them. He would point out to spots in the distance, recalling times he'd forgotten once or twice over. Anima didn't have the heart to tell him every spot he pointed to looked an identical grey and white sploch among splotches. She simply listened, Geralt was far more talkitive inside these walls and she had no intention of hedging that in anyway. "Seems like quite the adventure, then what happened?" Or a "That sounds unsafe." Every now and again but mostly it was her turn to reply with acknowledging "Hmms." As she followed him hand in hand from memory to memory. "Holy shit is that lake on fire?" There was one splotch that looked totally different.

Lambert was blowing up a lake, plain and simple. He didn't even try to play it off as fishing like he had in times passed. "Need help?" Lidrie appeared from the brush to sit beside him.  
"Throwing bombs into a lake? No thanks I've got it covered." He tossed another.  
"Do you need help with something else?" And she ran a thumb along the base of his neck, but he pulled away with a bit of a sneer.  
"Got my hands full at the moment." He tossed another.  
"This winter might go better if you tell me a bit more about yourself."  
"I'm a witcher what else is there to know?"  
"You're saying there's nothing else to you?" Her words were a little less curved and pretty, had a little more pry to them.  
"There used to be. Then . . . I became a witcher." And another went off. "If you're looking for a Witcher with layers go kill a kitten." Lambert didn't wish Jaskier or Anima dead, he didn't even really hate them, it just . . . being around them made him angry and he didn't see much point in dissecting or fixing that.  
"Layers are unnesicary, just get in the way. Look at the others. Jaskier could suck Eskel's tonsils right down his throat and there'd still be nothing of substance there. Geralt should be relaxing, unwinding, yet his wound tight worrying about a woman not worth her weight. They think their company makes them better, happier, those layers blind them to the truth. You're how a witcher should be."  
"Witchers shouldn't be at all. That's why the don't occur naturally." Lambert truly was more torn than his brothers were about his place in the changing world, felt every bit the relic they were.  
"And yet you exist. The world isn't grateful but I am."  
"You don't have to say things you think I want to hear."  
"It comes with the job. At least until spring I'm with you entirely, prettiest page you've ever had am I right?"  
"Here. Don't lose a finger I'm shit with bandages."  
"I'm no kitten." And with a flick of her wrist the lake erupted again.

Hours went on this way until the gates opened again. "The boys have probably already gotten themselves situated we'll . . . oh for fucks sake Eskel pull up your trousers."  
"Shit!" And there had been Jaskier pulling Eskel's dick to the breeze just as he had been warned not to. But then Eskel shouldn't have warned, it had almost doomed this moment to happen.  
"Where-" And an explosion was heard somewhere in the distance. "Well there's Lambert." Vesemir let out an already exhaused sigh. "And the bringers of all this chaos? Where's Geralt and his temptress?"  
"We kind of lost track of them." Eskel shrugged as he retied laces.  
"I'm sure you have Eskel."  
"GERALT? ANIMA?" Jaskier wanted some of Vesemir's judging gaze off of them.  
"You know you're-" Letho the larger of the two vipers started.  
"Dying? Yes we ALL know. You can send condolences and carnations to the Pankratz estate. Geralt?! Anima just let him carry you, you're short one foot and you were slow on two. Those stairs will take ages." Jaskier continued to shout so as to keep any scathing from the not angry but disappointed elder witcher.  
"Is she missing a foot?" Vesemir was woefuly confused.  
"Lambert was being Lambert and made Geralt fumble Anima, fell on her foot wrong." Eskel got to the short of it.  
"Right. Is that all I've missed?"  
"You." Geralt with Anima's arms slung over his shoulders prone on his back, had spanned the stairs efficiently. He placed her down and with a wide intimidating gate paced towards the vipers. "You've been following us. Then speeding ahead only to fall back again. Why?"

"We were headed the same way wolf." Letho had no rush to his words. "Work came up along the way." He shrugged. "Coincidence not conspiracy."  
"Hmm." Letho's slow words did make sense but sense did little for the nagging bristled feeling on the back of Geralts neck.  
"I do have a question for your empath if you don't mind?" Kolgrim had a voice almost too chipper to be that of a witcher's.  
"Mind what gave you that idea?" Jaskier saw it, they all saw it, Geralt was a fortress within a fortress, and Kolgrim would have to breach his broad and spiked walls before getting any closer to her.  
"Anima?" Geralt finally let his eyes leave the Vipers. Distrust them all he liked, and as much as he was her walls, he didn't want to cage her. If Anima shared any of his bristled state it didn't show as she stepped forward.  
"Ask away." Her face was calm nearly to spite the calamity.  
"Is it true you attached yourself to the wolf? That you can see what someone wants after attaching to them?" This line of questioned danced dangerously between interest in rumors and leading accusations.  
"Kolgrim, Geralt's touchy about eyes lingering too long on his horse. I'd be careful." Even Vesemir could see that this was bound to end badly.  
"Some of your facts are twisted. See-" Anima would defuse this situation, she could, these witchers were just too closed and clawed to clear the air.  
"You attatched to me in Hagge. Did you feel anything?"  
"Oh for fucks sake someone let me get a word out." Anima cringed. Was it this place? That made any sensible conversation forgo itself and lead to fisticuffs? "Kolgrim let me explain exactly what it is I do. It's not as romantic as the stories will have you believe See-"  
"I'm not asking for romance. Just . . . try again?" Kolgrim sounded equal parts sad and hopeful.  
"Stay clear of her, if you can't keep your pulse to yourself." Gealt was stern, it had to be stated, it had to be drawn hard in stone and not in what ever winding ever polite way Anima intended to explain. A witchers heartbeat was not something Anima would be convinced pressured or otherwise prompted to reach out and grab.

"He means no disrespect wolf." Letho spoke slow as always, not exactly rushing to Kolgrim's defense. "He's a fan of tall tales is all."  
"Hmm." Geralt had said his peace, had made himself clear, he had no desire to be redundant or overbearing so the conversation held little further interest to him. "It's good to see you Vesemir." He'd back off, he'd relax, try to get back to that comfortable mind set he'd been in when showing Anima the grounds. He got in a casual conversation with Vesemir about he days at the Loc and let Anima get her words out.  
"Tall tales is all they are I'm afraid. My skills are more vauge than what you've heard. If I saw you twelve hours in on a fast I could tell you were hungry but wether you wanted pie or pigeon would be beyond my scope." Anima figured witchers liked facts, so she'd give them the facts of it. "And the hunger wouldn't take a hold on your heartbeat. I can see base emotions like wants and desires by just a long enough look. Thirdly I don't attatch to witchers if I can avoid it. I wouldn't have done it if I knew you were one. Slow heartbeats are . . . uncomfortable to hold."  
"So you only decoded the wolf? What made him so special?"  
"No please, lets hear of Geralt the golden child again." Eskel spoke flatly as he rolled his eyes, grinning only when he got a snicker out of Jaskier and an amused grumble out of Geralt.  
"Witcher's emotions, only an empath could really decipher them. You owe it to us to try, not just the wolf the rest of us. Try to do it with the rest of us." This got a bawdy cackling laugh out of Jaskier whose mind perpetually shot to the gutter. Before Anima could drop any more cold hard truths Kolgrim was met with a heavy swat to the back of his head.  
"She owes you nothing." Letho stated slowly as ever.  
"I. . .Sorry it was . . . I just . . . I shouldn't have treated you as if you were a dowsing rod. You don't owe me anything." Kolgrim nodded in a way that told anyone with eyes he had only heard what he wanted to hear. He heard he had to prove himself, had to earn her attention.  
"It's too late in the season to find another hole in the wall. I don't care what you do come spring but for now keep your eyes, hands and dick to yourself." Letho threatened harder still.  
"Tell me Anima do you have any uses outside of pitting witchers against one another?" Vesemir was too old for all this petty nonsense.  
"I make a decent stew!" Anima let out a nervous chuckle. "Let me go find a corner in the kitchen to crawl in and die." She spun on her good heel and went abouts finding anywhere to seem more useful, less of a menace.

"You can say it." He had given her some time, spent most of it catching up with Vesemir and Lambert when he eventually returned from the lake, Eskel was preoccupied, had gone in a bit of a rush to show Jaskier something far and away from Vesemir's side glances.  
"Say what?" She was much happier staring into the big pot of meat and vegetables than she had been in the hall under more and more uncomfortable stares.  
"That I'm being over protective and stiffling."  
"You're being over protective and stiffling." She smiled as she stirred, there was no real accusation to her words. "You're allowed to feel baseless feelings too. Though know I won't leave you for another." She sounded while not amused, atleast comfortable with how Geralt had been acting. "Especially not another witcher. They're difficult." More than comfortable, comiserating.  
"He does want you. It's not blind jealousy." He was almost asking. Geralt was normally better, more conscious of being boarish and possesive but seeing Kolgrim in the flesh, knowing his motives it somehow both substantiated yet stunted the bristling feeling. Geralt was torn, still just uncertain enough to ask for some guidance.  
"He doesn't know what he wants. He doesn't want me in the same way you do. He wants someone to understand him and he thinks me some witcher whisperer. Just give him a day or so among the wolves and he'll know what Lambert's been screaming from the roof tops I am over sold and under qualified." Anima kept to herself that she felt a nagging feeling growing all her own. Geralt might have forgotten about the omen of his stabbing but she had not. But just like any other emotion not readily useful she tucked it away, her paranoia would not help ease the tension in Kaer Morhen, the tension she had brought to it's door step.  
"And what makes you think that's not the way I want you?" He had snuck up behind her, around her, laying a kiss on the side of her neck.  
"Huh? Geralt you don't keep me around because I can decifer your hums and haws."  
"Firstly." he pressed his lips back at her pulse, letting her tickled smile ease at the tear in him. "I do not keep you. It's the other way around."  
"I do aim to keep you Geralt." And her smile grew, she shook thoughts of someone taking him from her, focusing instead on the present and lively grumble at the crook of her neck.  
"Secondly. I don't think you whisper to witchers I think you whisper to me." And his hold grew tighter. "Before I even knew . . . before I thought you meant anything to me. I kept coming back to you didn't I?"  
"You did." So what if it brought fisticuffs if this place kept Geralt talking she'd learn how to box.  
"It's because I make everything hard but you were easy, made everything easy, being around you I didn't feel like a witcher. I felt easily understood."  
"I love you too Geralt." It was coming more effortlessly now, just saying it. "So. . ."  
"There it is." It had been too long since she had shifted topics with one of her sos.  
"Carry the pot for me?" He grabbed it and they started walking.  
"So what?" He asked a bit impatiently.  
"So what are your plans? What will you do once we're settled."  
"Hmm. You didn't like the dotting?" Geralt teased, this so had no punch to it, this was a diversion, to keep the blush from her cheeks. It was a different blush than those in bedrolls. It was for him just the same but he had brought it out with his words of all things. He had made her feel special and wanted, and he decided he didn't see enough of the shade in her cheek, he'd have to work harder, better. If he had any hope of her warming to his home, he'd have to remind her how special she was too him, and that was why he had brought her there. "Tomorrow I'll likely spar with the others. You don't have to sit and watch. I'd like to teach you how to defend yourself though. Afterwards I'll show you the-"  
"Will you be shirtless?" The question caught him off guard, he stopped for a moment.  
"What? Why would I be . . . you've been spending too much time with Jaskier. When have you seen me fight shirtless?" He glanced over at her confused.  
"Three days ago, when those bandits stumbled into camp and woke us up." She watched as he rolled his eyes.  
"And what did that thrill you?"  
"You don't have to be shirtless or in a skermish to thrill me. You always thrill me Geralt. Though I do prefer the former over the latter" And while she didn't make the witcher blush, she did notice the small puff of his chest at her words. He thrilled her, she had little interest in battles and brawn, but his presence, he as a whole thrilled her.  
"No matter, we'll watch regardless." She leaned over and gave a small peck to his cheek.

"It's not poisoned." Anima frowned at the collective skeptical stare at her stew. "It's fine I swear."  
"Fine? With reviews like that how have you not been contracted-" Jaskier paused to sneeze. "As chef of any kingdom in the north?"  
"Because kings like spices. There's no spice here. It's just a serviceable stew." Would it be the best thing any of them tasted? No. It was as neutral as the witchers claimed to be, but it was fine. She smiled satisfied when they finally started to eat. No sensitive nose was offended by peppers and heavy herbs, no mouth rolled around and choked down heavy salted meats or tangy pickled greens. Her heart nearly popped when Vesemir tossed out.

"I've eaten worse. Least I know Geralt doesn't starve."  
"He doesn't, I wouldn't dream it." Anima felt she was finally making some bit of progress. A small sigh came from the other end of the table, Kolgrim had a sad longing look in his eyes. He looked to Anima as if to speak but he was met with another thwak to the back of the head by Letho.  
"I still think it's a bit bland." Jaskier let his spoon filter through the broth unenthused.  
"There's no pleasing everyone." Anima sighed, she still felt warm, felt she was making progress, she just was coming to the realization how exhausting juggling all these big bold personalities would be. She could do it though, she had to embrace the challenge, keep her nose to the grindstone.

"Are you cold?" Geralt could tell she wasn't sleeping, he could feel her eyelashes blinking softly at his chest.  
"You ask that after you hand over your extra blankets to Eskel?"  
"Jaskier's dying it's the least we could do. I did like that rabbit skin, oh well."  
"He'll give it back won't he?"  
"Sure but it'll . . . There's not enough starch to clean out Jaskier's . . . enthusiasm. I can find something in storage if-"  
"I'm not cold Geralt." She kissed first at his shoulder, then against his lips. "Sleep. You worry too much."  
"What's keeping you awake?" She had been tired he knew it, the push here had drained all of them.  
"I am." She answered kissing his forehead. "Stop worrying."  
"It will get better I promise." Geralt ran a hand through her hair, assuming she was replaying their rocky first day in her head.  
"Stop. worrying. Geralt." She kissed him again. "I just want to watch you sleep."  
"Watch me sleep?" An eye opened. "Is this about the stabbing nonsense? I welcome someone to try and-"  
"It's not that. Just want to. You watch us sleep all the time." Geralt did nearly make a hobby out of it, staying up an hour so past his companions, just watching.  
"I watch to make sure you're safe." He shut his eyes again, if she just wanted to stare he wouldn't stop her.  
"I'm watching to make sure you're happy. I've never gotten to see you really rest Geralt." He had survived without Kaer Morhen for years, he didn't need it to starve off winter. He was here because he wanted to be, because this place made him happy, made him safe and warm and relaxed. Bristling aside she had noticed how loose and open and just . . . happy this place made him. She wanted to see any lingering thought leave his face, wanted him to just let a happy content sleep take him, wanted to see her witcher rest.  
"Hmm." He held her closer. What a silly goal, having a happy witcher. What use was there in that? Who had ever heard of such a thing? She was like him in that way, had a flare for the impossible. "You'll stay?" He wasn't sure why that grumbled out of his chest, why his hand clenched in her hair out of nowhere.  
"I will, I always will." She was sure why, he worried sometimes that when he was more like your average man than witchers of legend, he was at his most vulnerable to lose her.  
"Then I'm happy." And eventually she saw his face go lax, his mouth lull open and breezy, content snores pour out from Geralt, saw him sleep, not to ensure vitality, just to rest, maybe even dream.


	5. Blades and baths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training hard leads to playing hard but hard isn't always comfortable.

After a goodnight's rest and a hearty breakfast it was more a bother than a bristle, but it kept pulling at his attention, distracting him. Kolgrim was off to the side, practicing strikes and lunges against a training dummy. He has little other option what with Letho off doing something else and the wolves content amongst themselves. The viper kept looking up, kept looking at Anima as to see if she had noticed his form and strength. Geralt knew all too well Kolgrim was barking up the wrong tree and to put the poor lad out of his misery, he aimed to show him. Geralt stepped enough away from Lambert to imply a break was needed, grabbed a fist size rock fallen from any number of decaying walls and launched it. With a crack it hit the ledge Anima was dangling over, right between her kicking legs. "What? Huh? No that was . . . great? I'm sure it was great. You're all doing wonderfuly. Tens all around!" Her words flitteres from a shriek to something while calmer, equally unsure.  
"Kolgrim she doesn't give a shit about swords and signs. Stop wasting your energy."  
"She . . ." The viper looked as if he had more to say but in feeling Letho's phantom palm thwak the back of his head resumed his work with the dummy.

"Anima go get your cleaver." She had been carying that hunk of steel for months now, this was as good a time as any to teach her how to use it.  
"What are you going to have her cut the poor sod's dick off?" Lambert didn't seem to object, was just out and out curious.  
"No. I need to teach her how to defend herself."  
"Oh this I have to see." Lambert went from curious to amused. Perhaps now was not as good a time as any. Geralt noticed Eskel and Vesemir slow and close in on them. Anima was already off though, there was no undoing it.  
"Do not mock her. I've said it before and I'll say it again, you're not funny." Geralt sheathed his sword, opting for a training one instead.  
"I'm fucking hilarious." Lambert started. "I'll take it as serious as she will." He half conceeded under the weight of Geralt's glare. "A cleaver though? What good is that?"

It wasn't any good at all. She was gangly and with such a short range weapon at every downward or side swipe she was miserably exposed. Geralt gave up the pretense of using the training sword at some point and just gave a firm shove to her center of mass, knocking her flat on her ass. To her credit she would get back up and flail all over again. Despite Lambert's 'Stifled' chuckles and the lamenting sighs coming from Lidrie, who had seemed to appear from the shadows just to shake her head in disapproval, despite the awkwardness of having all eyes on her Anima kept trying. Each time she would stand back up, stare at Geralt with an off-putting calm concentration, only to lose all calm, hack and slash and fail again. "You're doing fine Anima!" At least the bard was in her corner. "She's doing fine!" Jaskier would shout over the snickers and sighs. "That was better Anima." Each time she hit the ground he was quick to assure her.

"That actually was better." Eskel noted on her sixteenth or seventeenth charge. "Not much." He shrugged. "But Geralt did you catch it? She's aiming for joints."  
"She . . . Anima what made you do that?" He hadn't given her such percise advice on where to strike. He was more concerned with her somewhat bowlegged stance and her abrupt and jaged lack of follow through. All those things were still atrocious, but she was aiming smarter.  
"Geralt you are bordering on insultingly confident right now." Anima snorted too out of breath to scoff.  
"Have you seen you? Why wouldn't he be?"  
"Lambert shut up. What of it Anima?"  
"The only time you're . . . by no means nervous. I'd say more . . . even remotely aware of my . . . whatever I'm doing, is when I aimed for your knee. And I'm using aim generously. So I figured that had to count for something right?" Her hand was burning, she was sweaty and frankly her ass was sore from hitting the dirt time and time again but she smiled hopefully.  
"It doesn't." Part of Geralt wanted to be as supportivd as Jaskier. Unfortunately he knew that support in the form of ham fisted compliments would do nothing for her if and when she needed those skills to survive. "You'd be struck down, before you got to swing, every time. You're too exposed. The only way that it would be helpful is if-" The practical answer weighed heavy on the back of his tongue, like a curse had turned it to lead. He just couldn't bring himself to say it.  
“She’d have to let them strike first.” Eskel nodded, he had no qualms with the practical. “You used your ability to tell where to attack. Do you think you’d be able use it to know when your opponent would strike? If you let them get close, keep your organs protected you could aim for the knee-“ Eskel pushed on Geralt’s shoulders till he was on one knee, he was met with what appeared to be just instinctual resistance, Geralt's shoulder craning to get out of the hold. “And if you were really going for it, then the neck.” And if Geralt didn’t like being brought to his knee he very much did not like someone touching the nape of his neck, he couldn’t spring back to his feet fast enough, a gruff grumble as he did so. “Worth a try.” She did try, but she failed every time. Even with focusing on when Geralt would strike he was always too fast, it wasn't even close.

"Well he’s a fucking witcher she’s not going to grow faster reflexes than a witcher! You’re doing fine Anima!” Maybe the witchers didn’t see it, or figured it didn’t matter, the hope chipping away in Anima’s face. Anima who was normally calm and confident was resigning herself to this all being a huge waste of time at everyone’s expense. She still got up and tried again, and again and again, but Jaskier was right, Geralt was a witcher and Anima was an empath, foresight is grand but reaction speed is better.

“Fuck!” And she finally threw the cleaver at the ground, pacing out some steam coming from her ears. Rubbing the inside of a palm that somehow managed to sting and feel numb at the same time. Geralt stood wide eyed, he’d pushed her too far, she was already out of her comfort zone and he’d forced her to take it on the chin longer than he should have. “Well that’s that.” She tucked away the outburst, neatly under a small sterile smile. “If I ever have to fight a witcher. I’ll simply have to take them with me.” She'd use her skills, fight her way. Maybe she could use the cleaver against a bear or a bandit but trying to out maneuver a witcher was by and far just the dumbest waste of energy.

“Are you done?” Vesemir had remained quiet during the whole session, he walked over to Anima’s cleaver, picked it up and angeled it against the sun.  
“She didn’t mean anything by it. She’s not going to kill us in our sleep.” Geralt could see a lesson brewing in Vesemir’s face and he wasn’t sure Anima could take much more tutelage.  
“Clearly.” The elder witcher was thinking, and it’s possible not the strongest empath in the world could have read between the aged lines in his face. “Well lets close the tent on this circus for today shall we?” He seemed to pause for interjections but none came.

“The baths now?” Jaskier had been promised spring fed baths, he was sure there were more words uttered in relation to it, enginering marvel and what not but he had heard: after training, hot spring fed bath and his mind had been lost in bubling water ever since.  
“That’s why I didn’t tell you where they were. I would have never seen you again.” Eskel smirked and the group seemed to murmer amongst themselves that yes baths seemed like a fine idea. Kolgrim who had been working at a distance staid. Figuring he'd just be given a cold shoulder in the warm bath.  
“Girl? You I still have words for.” And Vesemir's words stopped everyone in their tracks, everyone except Anima. She had snapped, and letting her emotions surge unchecked always brought repercussions. Why wouldn’t Geralt’s father figure after seeing her dreadful display followed by a tantrum to boot have a bone to pick with her?  
“Have fun soaking, do not delay a bath on my behalf.” She still had that small pursed smile. “If he doesn’t kick me out I’ll come join you.” She kissed Geralt on the cheek and shooed the younger witchers away.

As the men parted to get changed Geralt felt a tap on his shoulder. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?” It had been Lidrie. Geralt spent enough time among humans to know his response to that question wasn’t necessary, so he just started walking to his room. “Why waste all that time and energy? She has not intention of becoming a fighter.”  
“I have no intention to make her one. Shouldn’t you be with Lambert?”  
"There are people who would kill to learn how to battle from a witcher.” She sounded annoyed, offended on behalf of the masses.  
“Those people don’t know much of witchers. They know stories. Now if you want someone to play out your witcher fantasy with, you sold yourself to the right witcher. He’ll spook and snarl just to your liking. Why don’t you go bother him, he likes playing the part.” Geralt didn’t trust the look in Lidrie’s eyes. They were of similar sizing of Kolgrim’s, opening wide to find the glimmer in a sentence that suitied her needs.  
“And what if I told you I knew of witchers? That I was better and more appreciative than what I’ve seen in your empath.”  
“I’d say I doubt it very much and care much less.” Geralt was now actively looking for someone to pawn this woman off on.  
“Witcher’s abhor equals is that it? Just tell me? Is that why you seek out the company of those weaker than you?”  
“I don’t speak for all witchers Lidrie-” He had finally made it up the stairs, his room was mere feet away.  
“Then speak for you wolf. Is it that you’ll only take someone down on their knees?” And she dropped, shins clicking angrily against stone. “For any acknowledgement one needs to be weak and wanting?” Her hands reached out to his trousers. “I can bow for the time being if you let me show you that strength far supersedes-“  
"Stand up" Geralt barked, fully annoyed by this point. "Why are humans so dramatic?" He took some long steps backwards. She didn't move, just glared up determined. _'Before she went crazy what was she saying?'_ She had said something that caused that bristling shot up his neck, he wasn't sure what. It wasn't the advances or acusations they were just bothers that had no merit, again similiar to Kolgrim. It was something different, something a sense had noticed but his mind hadn't solved, something familiar.  
"I'm strong. I can get stronger, Anima is content bowing, having you protect her, being under your whim. You deserve an equal not a subsurviant-"  
"Do you know why she had such a hard time understanding her footing?" Annoyed as he was this bother still had to be acknowledged.  
"Huh?"  
"Anima doesn't know how to stand on her back foot, even when it's the tactical choice. She's always skips ahead, mid stride, that's where her head is always at. She's in control of her surroundings, bending them to her whim. She could bend **me** to her whim, any bow you see she's already concidered the alternative bite. It's deliberate."  
"Don't sell her short comings as success. She does nothing! I can-"  
"You should speak to Anima. She's better at . . . explaining things." The bristle was still there, but this conversation was going nowhere. He was just getting more and more bothered and it was becoming clear he didn't have the right words, let alone ones that Lidrie was willing to hear. It was a tactical retreat, he just left her there on the stairs.

There's what Geralt noticed first, and what everyone else saw. He saw new bandages, it had been a nice short lived time seeing her without gauze but they didn't live a life that kept skin unmarred. "What happened to your hand?" He grabbed it as Anima sat next to him in what really couldn't be called a bath, it was closer to a pool. The center of her right palm had a few heavily salved pieces of cloth wrapped around it. "The handel of the clever." It was a butcher's utensil not a battle made weapon. It's hilt had no give, no curve, just rigid pine. "It splintered."  
"Stop counting."  
"Hmm?"  
"You're going over in your head how many times I swung and when you should have known to stop and check. It's my hand I'd have known if it was going to fall off, blisters and splinters are a sign of a work in progress." She quickly tried to undo any guilt Geralt seemed to vortex from every corner of the continent. She knew hard work was hard on hands.  
"Hmm." He kissed the inside of her palm, wondering if there was a square inch of his mind she hadn't mapped out.  
"Vesemir's going to tinker with it. Most interested I've seen him."  
"He likes his blades." This was a good sign, Vesemir was warming up to her in his own standoffish way. "So he didn't lecture you into a puddle?"  
"He had a lot to say." Anima shrugged, it was a topic for later in the winter, not while they were unwinding in the bath.  
"He likes his speeches too." Geralt nodded.

"Anima I . . . and no disrespect to . . . either of you but . . ." Jaskier would point out what Geralt had overlooked. "It's sacrilidge Anima! Platonic nudiry aside you mock all hot springs stepping in this bath with one of Geralt's tunics on."  
"You shouldn't be so prudish Anima, best to keep his attention. it'll be a long winter and Geralt's known to have a wandering gaze." Lambert gave a knowing sneer. If Anima caught it she didn't remark on it.  
"I have to say I've been called a lot of things but prudish has never been one." Her smile was warm and unflinching.  
"It wasn't a compliment." The sneer turned to a full frown.  
"Not what I heard." Anima smiled further, it was a battle of stubborn wills. "But I see your point Jaskier. I'm sure we can compromise right Geralt?"  
"Hmm?" He felt he had made her the odd duck yet again, it was him that had an issue with platonic nudity not her. He watched her adjust herself till she was squarely in his lap. She pulled the oversized tunic over her head, then grabbed Geralt's hand draping his arm over her shoulder, he mirrored it with the other. She was bare but had Geralt's loose hold as a form of modesty, it truly was an effortless compromise. "Fair?"  
"Hmm." He kissed at the top of her head. ' _Mid stride.'_

Conversation resumed, hell Lambert even told a few stories and made a few jokes, none of which were at the kitten's expense. There was a vaccum of drama calling out into the air, someone had to answer the call. It was Eskel who broke the comfort, in his defense it was Jaskier's fault. The witcher seemed to be clearing his throat more and more often, they were all a bit red from the spring water but Eskell was redder, he began to jolt and squirm. "Are you jerking him off in the bath? Is his bed fucking broken?" Lambert with a swell of water, hopped onto dry land.  
"Now whose a prude?" Anima scoffed.  
"What you want to swim in his spend? Do you have no respect? Will you two not be content till you mark your territory over the whole fucking-"  
"If we're getting technical Eskel was the one on the edge of marking territory." Anima wasn't sure Lambert was capable of taking what he dished out, but it was worth testing.  
"Just stay the fuck out of my face. All of you! Geralt if you need Lidrie to blow you again just leave a note under the door!" With that the youngest wolf was off.

The water was still, the air was thick and the silence was palpable. "My hands get restless." Jaskier had to break it.  
"Well don't be cruel. Finish what you started. Don't deny yourself on our account. I don't want to swim in it though. Lets move over Geralt." She didn't wait for an answer, standing, walking with wet little stomps before sinking up to her neck in another massive bath a distance away. He wasn't far behind, but he didn't bring her close, didn't touch her.  
"So?" Anima's face was contemplating, weighing out the bite vs the bow in this scenario.  
‘ _Don’t say it.’_ Geralt’s mind knew it was a moote point. _‘Don’t say it.’_ His mouth was opening of it’s own volition. _‘Don’t say it.’_ He was fighting it with all the sense in the world. “It’s wasn't what it looked like." He cringed at the pan flat stare that got from Anima. "Nothing happened. She didn't exactly . . . She did get on her kness . . . She was . . . I didn't know she. . . " There was no great way to explain the events, nothing that wouldn't jab at Anima in some way.  
"Did you know Lambert saw?"  
"No." He hadn't heard his footsteps, he had been annoyed and his focus hadn't been it's sharpest.  
"Were you going to tell me?"  
"Yes." He hadn't the chance to tell her privately, he hadn't felt it something for public knowledge. "I told her to talk to you actually. Gods know she wasn't understanding me. I had to just walk away."  
"So did her knees just give out on her at the sight of you or . . . what the hell happened Geralt?"  
"She's like Kolgrim searching for something they think they're owed. She thinks that she's strong so . . ."  
"So she deserves the strong witcher. That you'd be better pleased by a stronger woman." Anima's voice had no inflection, like she was studying an arithmetic problem. "Would you?"  
"I want you Anima." Geralt's face scrunched in insult. What sort of man did she take him for? "Only you." Maybe she had hear stories, Lambert wasn't wrong, Geralt had been known for having a wandering gaze.  
"Would you be happier if I was stronger?" He hadn't expected that to be the tangent.  
"Anima you make me happy. You know that right? I don't want-"  
"That's not what I asked"  
"Hmm" He thought on her question for a moment. "I will be happy when you're sturdier. You should learn to be a strong swimmer, you need to learn how to land on your feet. Your hands won't blister after an hour of training with time. I don't like seeing you hurt." He tentatively reached out and grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb along her wrist. "What ever keeps you out of gauze makes me happy. I don't want you some war battered warrior. You were made to be a weapon and chose not to be. A strong choice in my mind." He saw that blush creep back into her cheeks.  
"So do you save all your words for Kaer Morhen?" At this less cold question he pulled her towards him.  
"They don't come any easier here but I want to see you happy too." He nipped at her ear, prompting her face to go from thinking to smiling. Their conversation died as Eskel let out what was a gasp and a groan in the same breath.  
"I think we've overstaid our welcome." Anima chuckled.  
"Hmm." He stood to go grab the tunic left over by the lovers, not making eye contact but then Jaskier spoke.  
"You don't need to deny yourselves either you know?" Jaskier knew the duo had an affinity for nearly public sex.  
"What?"  
"I won't peak I swear, my eyes are content with their current muse. And Eskel you're-"  
"Shameless aparently." Eskel's voice was heavy yet paradoxicly lofty, his mind was elsewhere.  
"Though I am curious. The acustics here are wonderful, who could get a more rousing-"  
"Wonder away." Geralt had to cut the bard off, snatching the shirt and walking away. He felt that tingling feeling in his skin again, pulse thumping at the prospect of a challenge, a challenge of louder. "Lets go." He had promised Anima he would be good to her, pushing her any further out of yet another comfort zone would be less than that. Here of all places, with people pouncing at any vulnerable crack, he couldn't afford to be less.  
"You've rigged the bet Jaskier. I can't out shout Eskel. Perhaps Geralt can." And Anima took Geralt's hand, pulling him back into the bath.  
"Anima you don't-" He was cut off by a muffling kiss.  
"If I'm going to be told how I'm stealing this place, making it my own playroom I might as well have you smiling and sated as a side effect."  
"Anima." His head was buzzing, but he managed to shake it in protest. "You don't have to prove anything."  
"No. But I want to prove everything." And she disapeared, he head dipping under the water, her mouth finding him with seamless percision.  
"Ani . .Ahh." His mind may have been on the fence but his body was chasing her, thrusting deep into her throat, not desperate but just needing to feed that tingling feeling in his skin. His hands knotted in her hair for a brief moment, but he quickly regained some of his head and pulled her up. "You hate the water." He kissed her almost apolgeticly first at her lips then down her neck.  
"But I love **you** more than I hate **it**." She chuckled as she took some sweeping breaths. She kissed him back, swift kisses trailing down his chest.  
"Anima stop we can-" Geralt was cut off by quite the guteral noise, while there was no peaking there was surely penitration from the other bath. The tingling challenge of it all, hearing Eskel rut without hesitation or contemplation was, distracting and in an odd way disheartning to Geralt. Something was wrong. He turned Anima around till her back was to him and he tried to lose those thoughts, tried just to roll his hips and grind into her. This had been what he wanted right? Someone to hear? Someone to see? Someone to know how well he pleased her? What she did to him? It felt fluid, his blood was rising with each thrust and eventually some groans and moans clashed against Eskel's as she bent back to meet him but the tingling wasn't getting better or worse it just buzzed aggressively at his skin at a throbing plateu. Perhaps she was too far away. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her up till her back was squarely against his chest, and that was better. Turning her face and seeing her eyes burst and adjust with each thrust was better, but something was still wrong. It wasn't Anima squirming, it was him, his head could not find comfort nor any worthwile enjoyment. He didn't want this. Then something changed, something distracted him further, the smell of the air got a distinct odor to it.  
"It's going to snow." His head lulled up and stared at the sky for a moment. He guided Anima off him.  
"Geralt?"  
"Here." He tossed the almost dry tunic to her before standing out of the water, shaking himself of the dripping wet before hastily putting on clothes.  
"Did I do something-"  
"Get dressed quickly Anima I want to beat it." Geralt still had an eye up at the sky. His skin still tingled but it had a focus now, he had a clarity about him, he knew what he wanted and it wasn't this.  
"The . . . snow?" Anima was confused. Geralt was turning his back on the safest exploration of a clear fantasy of his, of having others around while he had her. What had she done or not done to have a bit of snow spoil that?  
"Yes." He took her hand and helped her from the bath. Confusing her more the kiss he laid on her was just as, if not hungrier than before.  
"I don't . . ." She was on the backfoot, just like training, just as off balance. "Alright." She rushed on clothes. He looked determind though, looked like there was a less sour face under that determination, if he knew something she didn't she'd trust him. "Enjoy yourself you two." Anima was following Geralt to the trail back to the fortress proper.  
"Stop getting Eskel in trouble Jaskier." Geralt bid them farwell.  
"He deserves to be bad every now and again." The bard had a pant to his goodbye.  
"Hmm." Geralt didn't quite get the appeal of getting disaprovingly caught again and again but Eskel surely sounded happy so it was not his place to pry.

"Are you going to tell me what I did?" Anima was doing her best to keep pace with Geralt who truely was trying to beat the clouds. "Is it because I wasn't-"  
"Is your ankel better? You don't need me to carry you up the stairs do you?" They had made it inside the fortress, Geralt was rummaging around a closet and only reappeared when he found a spare bed roll.  
"Oh now you ask about my ankel? Not when I was supposed to out lunge you?" This stopped Geralt for a moment, he opened his mouth to apologize but she cut that right off. "It was a twisted ankle, I don't have bird bones. Stairs where Geralt?" She wanted him to stay determined, staying wanting.  
"The top." He was back to his short words, and sure answers. That's exactly where he took her, to the highest lookout post of Kaer Morhen, the whole expanse bellow them.

"Not that I'm complaining but . . .Why?" It was a breath taking view. She reached out her hand as a fluffly flake broke from the sky. He watched her silently for a moment and smiled. This was better, this was giving his head some of the relief it was after. "Why here instead of-"  
"I didn't want it." He knew he was going to need more words, he just needed a moment to think of them.  
"I'm sorry Geralt I thought-" Anima's eyes drifted from him. She was supposed to know what he wanted, she lacked survival skills but she could read anyone, especially him. Her brow scrunched as a snowflake hit her nose. How had she messed up even that?  
"I did. Until I had it." Sometimes fantasies were better as exactly that.  
"The chase more than the capture?" She wasn't sure she entirely believed him, but she didn't push. "Now I have to figure out what it is you **do** want Geralt. You brought me all the way-"  
"Before you get to picking my head apart. can I just. . ." He knew what he wanted now, he just needed words. "You still need to prove Lambert right." He gave her another kiss, this one was desperate, threatening to swallow her. "Mark the territory." His teeth grazed and tested at her neck. "This is for us for you." He bit down past a playful love bite. There it was, the tense and melt beneath him, the tingling in his skin finally began to swell. He tossed the bedroll down at the stone, peeling off her tunic and sunk his teeth at a shoulder. "I want us. Want you." Then down her arm.  
"Geralt I want you to be happy." She lifted off his shirt, dusted fingers along his back. "Want you happy with me." The second trail was scraping, pulling at his flesh, pulling him closer, pulling him down with her. It was all teeth and nails, but it wasn't angry, wasn't hurting, it was pulling and holding in the best way. What they wanted was them, with nothing and no one to pry them apart. As the snow fell he'd make sure she wouldn't chill, only get warmer, redder for him. They were quickly bare, rushing to unpause what had stalled out in the baths.  
"I've got you." Even at home, even relaxed he couldn't quite purr only humm from deep in his chest before biting again. "It would have been a waste." He groand as her nails dug where ribs met spine, promping him to thrust into her, just endlessly closer.  
"What's . . ." She let out a gasp as she took him fully. "What's that?" He didn't answer right away, just getting lost in the feel of her, just enjoying how her high breaths synced perfectly with his rhythm. "Geralt?" Her call of his name could pull him from anywhere, from death he was sure of it.  
"You don't like getting loud for others. Only for me." His spine curled as the words passed his lips. It was the burn of the slight pain, mixed with the cold drop of snow at his back, feeling her and all of his home laying beneath him sending his mind hazy. "Wouldn't be fair to not hear you during the first snow. Waste just to hear me and Eskel howl."  
"So you got all wet and wonderful for me just . . ." And her voice climbed perfectly for him as she got closer. "Just to hear me louder?"  
"Hmm." He was certain now she really did find him more attractive wet. "Anything Anima." And he let her wash out beneath him. "Anything to have you louder." He had little room to judge, her voice had him ravenous. "Louder just for me." He didn't slow, loving the little yelps and moans as she rode down and started climbing back up. He wanted to keep those sounds safe, in his ears, his head, why waste it on people who wouldn't appreciate it like he did? There'd be other baths to wet him for her, other easdropers if that was something he came back around on. This first snow on their first winter in Kaer Morhen, this was something better, something special he could give her.  
"I hope Lambert's window is closed." And Anima bit back a little, holding back what from the looks of it would have been a delightful moan. Maybe she was becoming just aware enough of the power of acustics mentioned earlier.  
"Hmm." Geralt languished the loss but he didn't have time to mourn. Anima's hands went from his back to his sides, twisting him best she could till he was finally beneath her. "That's twice he's been mentioned since we got up here." With her too far away to kiss and bite at, to get any surprised little squeals he let the tone change, go more tender as he felt her hands explore over him. He let out a groan, one reversed for when he allowed a moment to go soft. He allowed himself to just drown in the subtle sensations, lose his hyper awareness, lose his tense muscles, lose his worrying head, for a brief moment he dipped somewhere that was lost to the world. "Don't let him get to your head." He grumbled, he wanted her to get lost with him. "Don't let any of them get to your head." He was sometimes a bit too impatient, blood a little too hot too lay calm and content beneath her. He pulled at the back of her hips, pulling her further onto him. Soft was good but her shout was better, special.  
"Fuck! Geralt!" It tipped him, took him with her to climax.

"When it comes to us Anima don't let anyone get to your head. You're perfect for me. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere I-" The calming of the tingling at his skin gave words to what he'd been thinking on each time she looked out of her comfort zone.  
"Shhh. Can we just enjoy the snow?" She nuzzled in deep against his chest. "I really love it Geralt. That was quite sweet of you."  
"Hmm" He wasn't sure anything he'd ever done had been described as sweet, it wasn't an adjective that fit him, but his ears did get red around the edges at the soft praise.

"I'm glad we came here, thank you." Her words as always hit wonderfully, made him preen. He may have lost to Eskel in the challenge of louder but he felt a swell of victory. He had given her something special, a good step forward in reminding her that she was special.  
"Love you too." He kissed the top of her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kept reworking this chapter, struggled harder than I should havd hopefuly it's lost enough of it's original clunkiness.


	6. Lambert and the short fuse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lambert can't be avoided forever, and it starts an explosive turn to the winter.

"Didn't I tell you to leave me the fuck alone? What are you doing here?" Lambert opened the door to the alchamey lab and without missing a beat was irate.  
"It's been two weeks. I have left you alone. I was here first I'm not a ghost I can't disappear into the ether." Anima was measuring out saltpeter she didn't look up from her work right away. Geralt had told her the witchers were going to clear out some nests in a few days, she wanted to be a useful guest not a freeloader.  
"I don't fucking care. It's not my job to entertain you when-"  
"Fine." Anima stood, she was just simply out of taste for being barked at. "I'm going."  
"Can you do anything right? The ratio is all off." Lambert was inspecting one of the bombs Anima had been working on.  
"Lambert I followed the recipe, you can't curse me for reading." She sighed, knowing full well he could and intended to.  
"The recipe's wrong. Haven't put that much sulfur in ages."  
"Well then why not change the recipe?" Was she missing something.  
"Why bother?" There were no new witchers to teach. Why edit the source material?  
"I . . ." She saw Lambert almost trying to talk to her not at her, it was worth a shot. "Bother telling me? If I'm going to be a jack of all trades but a master of none I'd like to at least not have Geralt blow himself up because I mixed something wrong." She waited for Lambert to be insulted she even asked, to be told she had no place knowing witcher secrets.  
"You'll find another way to kill him I'm sure." He shook one of shells holding combustible powders. "Explosion would be a shitty way to go." He seemed to be at least considering it, she'd never seen him consider anything.  
"It would." She nodded, this was going well, as well as she ever imagined a conversation with Lambert going.  
"Well are you waiting for me to pull out a seat for you cause-"  
"Wouldn't dream it." She quickly reclaimed her stool. For a while she just watched as Lambert mixed and measured, occasionaly she would reach out to try herself but he would just swat her hand away, and tell her she hadn't even been watching.

"You know what you do's not all that special right?" He couldn't stop talking even when he finally allowed her to attempt one of her own. "Witchers basically do it. What you do is just a fancy femine axii right?"  
"No." She was concentrating very hard on doing exactly what Lambert had done, if she messed up she'd never hear the end of it.  
"What do you mean no?"  
"It's like yes." She squinted at the shell, shook it three times to level, then once more becuase that was exactly what Lambert had done. "But the opposite." She smirked as she began knotting some twine around the closed shell. "Axii puts people in a mental stouper, makes their mind easily manipulated. What I do has very little if not nothing to do with the concious mind. It's all about feelings, emotional or physical. I tethered to you once. Did it feel like Axii?"  
"Didn't feel like shit till my hand sliced open in your place."  
"Fredrick said that I may be able to . . . He's a bit of a makeshift scholar on empaths." She elaborated once she saw the confusion in the Witcher's eyes. "Says I might be able to create illusions or tap into memories but I haven't really dabbled. I've seen others-"  
"So there are others . . . like you? Why don't you go be with them then?" Lambert interjected with a snort.  
"There are others like me, but I'm not like them. If that makes sense. So how's it look?" She held up a completed dancing star.  
"Like shit. Try again. So you're like Geralt, you think you're better because-"  
"Geralt views you as a brother, he does not think in terms of better when it comes to the wolves." It was always a battle with Lambert, he just wanted to be angry. "What makes me not like the others . . . makes me worse not better. I didn't want to . . . I'll spare you the mewling of a kitten."  
"Huh?"  
"You asked me a question and I started going off on a bit of woe is me. You didn't ask for that." Lambert was not Geralt and he had no purpose or patience for her past.  
"Reverse psychology? Sparing me the story so I ask to hear it? I'm no sap."  
"Never called you a sap." Anima held up her second atempt. "huh?"  
"Better." The pain it caused him to say the word was almost comical. "Got enough for one more. So what makes you so different?"  
"I didn't . . . embrace it I guess, just didn't like it, how it made me feel. Not liking what you are doesn't make you any less . . . that though. I didn't want to be whatever it was they had planned, so I left, but look at me now. Slicing witcher's hands open, getting in head games with other empaths . . . hell even from the day I left I was using . . . what I didn't want. I cut my nose to spite my face when you look at it from the outside. Just a bit of a spoiled brat but-"  
"Are you mocking me?" Lambert shot to his feet.  
"What?"  
"Just because I don't bleed silver like Geralt or Eskel I'm a brat?"  
"Lambert everyone feels that way about themselves. Uncertainty is-"  
"You're telling me Geralt doubts his path?! You do think me a sap."  
"I think he is very sure of what he is. To his credit I think it's a trait of your type to end every sentence with 'I'm a witcher.' As much as he's sure he's a witcher . . . look at the company he keeps. Do you think whoever etched the first witchers out of stone would have approved? He battles with being what he is to protect who he can, and how that leaves him at a distance from those very people. It leaves him not liking parts of him, doubting bits, wanting to be something else but knowing he can't. Eskel's quiet and has been pretty consumed by Jaskier's company so I can't say for certain but . . . I think he doesn't always want to be a man of action. He's not lazy, he's . . . interested. He wants to watch and experience and . . . Just see the world and not for the next nekker nest. Maybe that's why he focuses so hard, to keep from getting distracted. You are not the only one at odds Lambert. It's not just the witchers either. I think the recipe for intelegent beings was written long ago and no one's been the same mix in ages."  
"Gods do you ever shut up?" Lambert laughed, but it was different, it wasn't jeering, there was an almost friendly warmth to it.  
"Geralt's not stoeic. He just can't get a word in edge wise." Anima laughed with him.

There was a knock at the door. "Anima?" It was Geralt.  
"Just walk the fuck in. Witchers don't knock."  
' _As I said constantly reminding us they're witchers like we forgot.'_ She rolled her eyes. The door opened and Geralt walked in, a bit of confusion on his face.  
"You don't have manners, doesn't mean none of us do. What's going on here." He glanced down at the messy table. "You teaching her to be a slob?"  
"Anima's taking more of your job from you. Next she'll be pestering Eskel to show her how to sharpen your blades." Lambert kicked his feet up on the edge.  
"No. He likes that too much. But thank you Lambert, for showing me." Anima stood with a smile. She would never take Geralt's whetstone from him, he really did find some peace in the practice. Also that would mean she'd have to touch his swords and she didn't think even her love had garnered that mythical level of trust.  
"Whatever. Geralt take you Kitten, give me my room back." Lambert leaned back in his chair. "Have you seen Lidrie?" Maybe Anima's words had stirred something in him, maybe he didn't feel as alone, or at the very least maybe he didn't want to be alone.  
"Does anyone see her? She just appears." Geralt shrugged, he had been trying to keep an eye out for Lidrie, not wanting to be blitzed again but she never seemed to come or go, just was there or wasn't.

Lidrie was very much there when the witchers were at the gate three days later. She was there and unhappy. "Why can't we come along?"  
"Because we're not going on a stroll. We're going to upturn nests. I mean little offense but you'd slow us down." Vesemir seemed annoyed that they were behind the dawn.  
"We'll be back by night fall." Lambert liked that Lidrie seemed to be more interested in his company over the weeks but today was for work not company.  
"Get used to it Lidrie." Anima had already been down this road. "They just work faster alone."  
"Don't lump me in with you. I'm not slow."  
"You're as fast as a witcher?" Jaskier gave a snort. He too had asked to come along, it was a rare sight to see so many witchers working together and he'd have liked to commit the moment to memory, write of it, but he had been delt a equal Witchers only speal and had since conceeded. "Let them have some time to themselves."  
"There will be no letting. There is no wagering here. I have allowed you three to-"  
"Now you've done it." Eskel groaned.  
"Hmm." Geralt seemed to commiserate.  
"Done what? Would work not go faster with extra hands? These two might be content to fill your matress and pack you lunches but when it comes to getting their hands dirty they bow-" She loved that word.  
"Enough. They have traveled the road long enough to know when a hand is helpful and when it's a hinderance. Lambert will move faster with his eyes on the task at hand, not over his shoulder to make sure his nosy nymph is safe." Vesemir did not like explaining himself a second time.  
"I said we'd assist. I did not think that entailed be nagged at." Letho was growing impatient.  
"This is not a negotiation. . ." Vesemir started walking out of the gate. "A witcher should not be swayed by the batting lashes of a bruxa or a babe-"  
"This is what you've done." Lambert sighed. "He'll be on his witchers should pedestal all day." And the younger wolves followed with a lack of any zeel that had been there before.

Once the witchers were gone Lidrie's ire turned to Anima and Jaskier. "You do nothing?! Say Nothing?! Does that not bother you?! I am under appreciated because of people like you."  
"Have you seen a clump of sticks and bones? You've seen a nest. You're not missing much. Making demands and stamping your feet will not get you what you want." Jaskier rolled his eyes turning them from Lidrie to a piece of blank parchment that had been too blank for too long. That bothered him. He had a terrible case of writers block and Lidrie's shouting was breaking his concentration. "Trust me I'm very good at it. It works on most, not witchers they're stubborn like that." He had tried it with Geralt, tried it with Eskel, differnt faces, same result, you weren't going to dissuade a witcher when it came to witcher's work.  
"Lidrie what you want and what you think you need are not the same." Anima wondered on destiny now and again. Even Geralt would have to give creedesnce to the outlandish odds that of all the prostitues Lambert could have hired to spite them, it would be Lidrie. A witcher that didn't like that he was and a woman who wanted to be as close as she could.  
"Don't analyze me freak. You know nothing about me. They treat me like a pet, I try to prove that I'm more and they laugh. Laugh!"  
"Lambert laughed at you?" Anima knew the witcher lacked tact, it was possible but the dark distant look in Lidrie's eyes spoke to reflection and lamenting.  
"Slow down. Did you call Anima a freak?" Jaskier stopped his scribbling and glared. Even here they weren't safe? All the way in the mountains there was still hatred? Lidrie seemed keen to live a witcher's life but mutants were not created equal in her eyes.  
"I don't owe either of you house pets answers." And Lidrie was gone.

"Humans really do equate being left out as worse than death don't they?" Anima recalled Jaskier saying similar words after they were told to stay behind by Geralt earlier in the year.  
"Being left out is worse than death. If you die at least people remember you were there." Jaskier spoke and scratched his pen in his hair. "See I'm still fucking profound. Why won't the words come? I get what she's saying. I'm sure if we were out there with them there'd be adventure to be had. I don't like sitting and waiting to hear poor ghost stories." His toes tapped rythmicly at the stone floor "It doesn't bother you Anima? Is it really a human thing?" Jaskier let a few coughs fly, his illness had gotten better then worse again.  
"I don't need to be remembered. I won't be more than likely." Anima had misheard the question.  
"No. Being left out?"  
"I fear being left behind, that Geralt or You . . . Thill or Fredrick won't come back to me when one of us leaves. That's something . . . that bothers me more than it should." Her skin crawled at the thought. "Left out? Adventure I could take or leave, maybe if I had more to add I'd feel more passionately. I'm not a fighter, not a poet, adventure has nothing for me, it can only rob me. But! Enough self pity. You just don't like sitting . . . or waiting. Come on maybe there's adventure in these walls."

Adventure was for the most part a matter of taste. Clearing out monster nests should not have been an adventure for the witchers. As Kolgrim lit the fuse on a bomb and it exploded in his palm it very much became one. The injury was bad, his hand rightly charred, nerves cooked, flesh peeled, he couldn't move it. Vesemir inspected the wound, Letho walked right past his fellow Viper, right to Geralt. "Your let your woman play alchemist and you almost got him killed. Could have gotten me killed." That was the bigger point there.  
"Faulty hardwear happens. What do you want me to do about it?" Geralt did feel for Kolgrim, he'd held a faulty explosive before, it was not an enviable feeling. Still he didn't know what Letho wanted.  
"You let it happen."  
"I'll ask again. What do you want me to do about it? Do you want an apology?" Geralt found his voice narrow and his shoulders widen, he felt the threat.  
"I'm not going to tell you what to do wolf. Actions should have consequences though. If Lambert made the faulty bit you wouldn't bat an eye if I struck him."  
"Your asking to strike Anima?" Geralt was not alone, Eskel joined the conversation. "I wouldn't advise it."  
"I taught her to make the fucking things." And Lambet made it a circle. "If smashing your fist into something will make your-" And Letho needed no more invitation, he threw a punch square into Lamberts right eye socket, while the wolf didn't fall it did cause him to stumble backwards a few steps.  
"Even." Letho nodded.  
"Enough! She may have been the cause but she'll likely be the cure too. Anima has salves and potions for hiccups to hipaches she'll have something back at the keep." Vesemir shouted, he was used to heads butting, he had expected as much but peacocking wasn't helping Kolgrim.  
"You alright?" Geralt could see a bump already forming around Lambert's shut eye.  
"Just got fucking plowed in the face how do you think I'm doing?"  
"You didn't have to do that." Geralt didn't understand why Lambert of all people had stuck up for Anima. "Thank you." He was beginning to believe Jaskier's anlaysis of Lambert letting her tinker along with him as a monumental start to a friendship. He and Anima previously had been less than sold.  
"Geralt." Lambert gave a tug at his fellow witcher to hang back. "I didn't pack Anima's bombs. I didn't trust her handiwork either."  
"So it was one of yours?"  
"Fuck no. That shit was made wrong. Either Anima put hers in the bag. Or someone else put one in. Not sure why."  
"Hmm." There was two plausible explanations for that. "I'll ask her but she doesn't touch packs without asking. More likely someone wanted to frame her. Or, someone wanted a witcher dead." It all hung on motive, did someone want Kolgrim dead was he even the desired target? Letho could be a real killer when he wanted to be. Did someone want Anima to lose face? Lidrie resented the respect she thought the empath hadn't earned. "Don't tell anyone yet. I need to look into this."

"How's the pain?" Anima sounded terribly guilty as she cleaned dead skin off Kolgrim's hand and arm once the witchers returned to Kaer Morhen.  
"It . . . it hurts. Do you have something for the pain?"  
"Several things!" She gave a nervous laugh as she stood to get some supplies, but she was halted by a grab at her arm.  
"Until the potion kicks in. Can you . . . can you take away the pain till then?"  
"I said no." Geralt shoved away Kolgrim's fist.  
"Man up." Letho left the room with a snort, he had expended any and all care he had for his fellow witcher.  
"She's not attaching to you. Not for anything." Geralt growled sternly.  
"It wouldn't kill her." Kolgrim let out a hiss of pain. "She made the damn thing!" Was Kolgrim so desperate to have Anima tether to him that he'd injure himself to guilt her? The mystery was getting more complex, more shallow factless motives fell from the sky. Geralt was concerned he couldn't unweave it fast enough to avoid a body count, he needed help. Luckily motives were wants and he had an expert in his corner.

"Anima come here." He pulled her to the side. "I'm not stabbed yet and don't overreact." He rushed that point across knowing he wasn't the only one to worry.  
"Promising start. Are the vipers that mad? I didn't make it wrong on purpose." Anima had been trying her best to be helpful. Lidrie viewed her as a mattress warmer but Anima was trying to assist within the limitations of very much not being a witcher. She must've messed up, and she understood a witchers hands were their livelihood but would the vipers really hurt her or Geralt because she made a mistake? Every decision, every action really was life and death with these people. "Don't fall on a sword on my behalf Geralt." She felt his arm lull around her lower back, gesturing her tighter against him, she could feel the protective stance he was taking. It was her mistake, she wouldn't let them hurt Geralt is her stead. "I'm an adult I can-"  
"Did you put your bombs in Lambert's bag?" He watched realization pop onto Anima's face. He asked out of mere formality. Anima had been traveling with him about a year by this point. She had an understanding and respect of the man she aimed to keep and the witcher who had to work. That sometimes she had to treat them as separate entities. While as a man Anima had free reign, could do and say near anything because she knew him, loved him, they shared a world. As a witcher, she was an outsider, and worse a liability. He couldn't always bring them where he went, his job was a world unto itself, a world not safe for them. She and Jaskier could follow on hunts sometimes and even rarer still there were times when extra hands were helpful but for the most part they had to, for their safety and the witcher's own, stay at camp or an Inn. The best they could do for him was wait for Geralt the man to return. Still she was bridging the gap between the two. For a month or so Anima had been gobbling up formulas, reading was a skill that had come to her a bit late in life, speed had never come, so at first it had been slow going but she wanted to be helpful to Geralt the witcher. She had worked very hard, practicing, learning, perfecting the ability to brew potions. Even so she was careful and respectful, she had always asked Geralt before touching Roach's saddle bag, always practiced a formula more times than she really needed before letting him take the smallest sip, acutely aware and apologetic if any side effect seemed equal or worse than the boost. She had never just tossed potions in his bag and hoped for the best because she knew misteps could equal death on the path. She had been interested in branching out to bombs but nothing gave Geralt concern that she'd put him in danger just to see the fruits of her labor. "The rest of our time here, always stay in eyeshot of a wolf alright? Please?" He rested a palm against the base of her neck, thumbing against her spine, he would not lose her. She loved all parts of him, man and witcher alike, the thought of someone lashing out and taking her from him, or even taking him from her, the brisstle was gone. It was anger and a small bit of fear rooted squarely between his shoulders.  
"I ruined your home didn't I?" Anima sighed not exactly sad, more so guilty.  
"For as dead as it is Kaer Morhen always finds a way to get lively." He kissed the top of her head. He hadn't given up, it wasn't in his nature. Despite the recent turn of events, he still could find a way to convince her that his home had some sense of appeal. Right?  
"Lets try to keep this from becoming a lively murder mystery?" She could see the scowl in Geralt's face. The anger, the fear, the worry. "I'll look for clues my way. You look for clues yours. There'll be nowhere to hide." She leaned up and kissed him and for a moment it returned, the balance. What Anima did for him, what was more helpful than mixing bombs or potions, she fought to balance the man and the witcher. To allow them not to clash but cohabitate Geralt's bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was kind of light on the whole relationship bits but I am trying something different with this story (that I won't likely do again) and its got me struggling a bit to cram everything I've got going on in my head into something that makes sense. Bear with me.


	7. Ever even Eskel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier takes a breath, gives Eskel time to speak but does he have anything to say? He worries he'll bore but by dinner time a bore would be a welcomed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -edited to change the hen song to the one Eskel sang in the game because that inaccuracy was bothering me-

"I haven't been able to write one damn word since I've been here." Jaskier explained why Eskel had woken late in the night or early in the morning depending on how technical you wanted to get with it, to find the bard pacing his room.  
"You've been distracted." Eskel shrugged as he lifted himself on his elbow.  
"Huh?" And Jaskier stopped pacing just to look at the witcher. "Yes but normally even distractions. . ." He stopped as he saw insult pull at Eskel's features. "No I'm not saying I don't enjoy this. You. Your company. Eskel I've spent near every waking moment with you and I've enjoyed it . . . thoroughly."  
"I just don't inspire." The insult left and understanding took it's place. "I'm pretty generic as far as witchers go. Personality is not what I'm known for."  
"You have a personality Eskel." Jaskier sat with a bit of a bounce on the edge of the bed.  
"Oh yeah? Go on bard tell me about my personality?" Eskel laid back down, waiting for the words to start pouring out. He wondered what Jaskier thought of him, how he'd string those thoughts into long eloquent words.  
"No." Jaskier's finger prodded at Eskel's bare chest. "You tell me. I've been speaking for weeks and you've let me, I've let me. I'll never shut up if no one stops me."  
"I don't want to stop you." Eskel sat up again. He ran circles along Jaskier's back. "You can take a break though. You don't have to be on all the time."  
"Do you think I'd be a bad listener? I know I come off as vain and selfish but I am a good listner. I love listening almost as much as I love-" And a fit of coughing errupted from him.  
"Lay down." Eskel pulled the bard down to the bed, his circling digits went from his back to his chest, trying to calm the agitated muscles.  
"Tell me some of your stories Eskel. Tell me something about you." Jaskier coughed again but this was a bit of an embellishment. He was still on, he was always on. Maybe if Eskel thought he was sicker than he really was he'd indulge the bard's curiousity.  
"Let me get you some tea . . . maybe Anima has some herbs that will help."  
"Then you'll lay with me in my death bed and tell me something about you?" Jaskier was a nudge, even more so when he was ill.  
"You want to know about the scar?" Eskel had stood, was scratching nervously at his mared face.  
"No. I mean if you want but I'd just like . . . Nevermind. Forget it. Just come back won't you? You don't have to talk if you don't want to." And something a bit hurt read across Jaskier's face.  
"What . . . Don't mope Jaskier I'll think of something to talk about." Eskel tugged at the root of his hair, as if he could pull something entertaining from his brain that way.  
"No I didn't mean to read more into this than there was I aplogize. Tea is fine." Jaskier shook his head.  
"Read more into what?"  
"Exactly." Jaskier turned over on his shoulder. He was hurt, did he think he and Eskel were soulmates akin to Anima and Geralt? No. He had too much soul to be content with one mate. But he had thought them more than the roll in they hay Jaskier found at every Inn, town, roadside, the drunk tank on bleaker days. He thought there was something a little deeper, a little friends with benifits with Eskel, but the fact that the witcher did not want to let the bard in, even the slightest, spoke the opposite. To Eskel Jaskier was just an entertainer, and that was fine, Jaskier was that, would always be that, but fine sometimes stung.  
 _'Shit.'_ Eskel frowned. _'How do I fix this?'_

"Anima. Geralt I need your help!" Eskel stood infront of the couple who were studying Anima's shitty map, picking which mountain they could hike.  
"Making tea?" Geralt saw the kettle clenched in Eskel's fist. "First you put water in and-" Geralt smirked but stopped when Anima flicked his ear.  
"What's wrong Eskel?" This was the most emotion she had seen in the witcher's face since she'd been here, it had to be serious to cause jitters in the ever even wolf.  
"Geralt you've known me for years. Tell me a story of us that shows I have a personality. Not the scar story."  
"I was barely there for those events. What's this about? Wrong question. What did Jaskier say? That you have no personality?" Geralt looked at his brother with a measure of seriousness, Eskel was his equal, he related to him, had a connection to him that had been different than the other wolves. "He doesn't always think before he speaks. He doesn't have a malicious bone about him though. He won't cast you aside because you're not as animated-"  
"He thinks I DO have a personality. Won't take no for an answer."  
"You do . . . _have_ a personality Eskel." Geralt wasn't as confused anymore. "Talk about your horse races." Geralt equated it to when Anima asked him to want something just for him. It went against his nature, and with Eskel his nature was to blend as best he could, he didn't want to be renown, or infamous, his nature was to exist and observe. Even when they were young and got into trouble round the keep, when the stories were told Geralt had been the trouble maker and Eskel had gone along for the ride. Geralt knew that wasn't true though, Eskel had a mind about him, he wasn't just muscle to be moved, his silence made him just as much trouble if not more than Geralt. Eskel did have a personality, a layered one at that. He just didn't shout like Lambert, nor did he stick out among his peers like Geralt did so he seemed muted by comparison.  
"Anima. Can you tell me what Jaskier wants? I've upset him and I . . . He thinks I'm just using him that's not it. I just . . . I like-"  
"No empath is needed for Jaskier's wants. He's very clearly told you what he desires. I'm sure of it. Tell Jaskier what you like. What you don't like. Tell him who you are a bit. He's a much better listener than his mouth implies. He seems to be one that bores easily." At this Anima saw Eskel nod thoughtfuly, that was the witcher's worry, he'd speak of himself and the bard's interest would cool or sour in some way. "But you've been rolling around in his head since we last left this place and if Jaskier is bored he simply moves on no second thoughts. You've held his attention Eskel." She frowned when it seemed the witcher was less than convinced, though she wasn't exactly surprised, witchers were strong in their opinions. "How bout this start out small, cut the difference. You like music don't you?" She watched him nod. "Tell him some songs you like. A shared interest!"  
"You think that'll work?"  
"I liked Geralt's idea about the horse races. Shared intrest is safer but less meaningful. Look at Geralt and I. What interests do we share?"  
"We share intrests." Geralt huffed.  
"Name something we both enjoy . . . something that's not sex!"  
"You like so few things." Geralt really tried to think but just snorted in defeat.  
"Yeah and you hate those few things . . . along with most other things." Anima laughed. "But I love you and that's all that matters!" She was in quite the silly mood, Geralt didn't bother bursting it with a scoff, letting her grab his face with both hands, planting a silly over dramatic kiss on his cheek.  
"Hmm." He'd indulge her it didn't mean he'd get silly along side her.  
"I can see how she bothers Lambert." Eskel chuckled but this talk was making him feel better. "Thanks." He began walking back towards the stairs.  
"You still need water." Geralt shouted as he again tried to make sense of Anima's map.  
"Huh?"  
"For the tea."  
"Right." Eskel took a sharp turn in the opposite direction.

"Maybe I should just contract Fredrick to train empaths. Asign each one a witcher so they never have to unpack a single emotion alone, teach them to understand they're nothing to be scared of." First Kolgrim then Lambert now even Eskel, it was becoming quite the task chipping just just enough of their facades to see the person underneath without denting at their precious armor.  
"That'd be false advertising." Geralt grumbled. "How do you read this?!" The parchment was inches from his nose, he slapped at it with the back of his palm, absolutely frustrated and the smallest bit amused.  
"I think it's upside down?" She flipped it. "No. Somehow that's worse. What do you mean false advertising?"  
"I was content with my five emotions before I met you, I understood them, didn't fear them." Witchers don't fear for themselves, that was fact. "You . . . caused a flood. Shit I didn't have a place or purpose for. Witchers feel, they know how, they just don't . . . bother. You just make them bother"  
"Oh." She hadn't considered that, not really. She did her best to contain her own emotions what gave her the right to lift the levies on other's.  
"It was a compliment Anima. It's . . . better. Wouldn't work with someone else. Witchers are a bit prideful."  
"A bit?" Anima laughed outright.  
"You're patient. Let us do it ourselves, that's important, you could just fix it yourself but you don't. Don't think Fredrick could teach that. Got nothing to do with your abilities, you care." Compliments were hard to come by in Kaer Morhen, this made all the doubt and demands of the place worth it.  
"I do. So do you think-"

"Geralt there you are. Have you seen Eskel? You're both late, we agreed to speak in the library or did you forget?" Vesemir again had that not angry just disapointed look on his face.  
"If he ever figured out the tea kettle he's probably with Jaskier." Geralt had in fact forgotten, distracted fully by Anima and her baffling map.  
"Speak? Just the witchers?" Anima spoke with dread.  
"Most topics would hold no interest I assure you. Geralt go fetch him? I'd rather not catch him again." Vessmir had less qualms with Eskel and the bard than he did with Geralt and Anima. He just was unsure how many times a mentor could see his pupil's fully erect adult penis before their relationship became strained, he measured once a winter was enough.  
"I'm sure it wouldn't but . . . Geralt before you go tell me I'm a good person again?" Anima was mid stride, she knew what she was in for.  
"You're a good person." He looked down at the map again. "That one." He finally made a choice. "Tomorrow we'll go." He gave her a soft enough kiss with a confidently pleased grumble behind it before standing from the table.

"What was that all about?" Vesemir did not understand the dynamics of Geralt and Anima's relationship everything about it seemed odd.  
"We're climbing a mountain tomorrow."  
"Not that. You need him to tell you that you're a good person."  
"All the witchers are going to do something just for witchers which will set off bells and whistles in Lidrie. Who will in turn take it out on me that we're not invited. She's not a witcher but should be included and it's somehow my fault she's not because . . . everything about me is just the worst." It felt good to vent even just for a second.  
"There have been worse women." Vesemir shrugged.  
"Thanks." She chuckled, Vesemir didn't understand her but he was slowly growing an appreciation for her.  
"Have you spoke to him about what I told you?"  
"No." Anima had not forgotten their chat, she had tried but it wasn't a topic easily shrugged of.  
"Oh? Are we waiting for spring?"  
"We're waiting till I'm certain of what I want. Witchers like certain."

Eskel was certain, nearly always but as stupid words passed his stupid lips, as he held tea it had taken him ages to make because he kept forgetting water, he was less than certain of everything that had brought him to this point. "I have a hen." And he hung there, the uncertainty cutting the air from him like a noose.  
"I'm sorry?" With out a spectator to watch him cough and wallow in pity Jaskier had managed to get dressed, he had been about to go find Anima. She'd cheer him up, or at least be the best bet to do so, company was scarce in Kaer Morhen.  
"I . . . have a hen." Eskel did not retreat as uncertain as he was.  
"Doooes it have a name?" Jaskier figured Eskel was trying to tell him something about himself and while farm animals weren't exactly thrilling it was a start, a start was all Jaskier was asking for.  
"Huh? No I don't actually . . . have a hen." Eskel sighed frustrated with himself, still forward, no retreat. "Er I do have a horse purebred kaedweni . . won a couple races with him. Got a goat too . . ." He was not thinking for the sake of not stopping, just letting every word that crossed his mind spill out. "They have names. Scorpion . . . lil bleater." Eskel's word vomit finally stopped when he saw an amused but curious look on Jaskier's face.  
"I suppose there's been quite a few little bleaters." Jaskier had seen Geralt use goats as bait for flying beasts a handful of times. He'd start with the topic of monster hunting maybe that would bring some of Eskel's confidence back.  
"Less than you'd think. I try my best not to let them get eaten, adds an extra challenge to it. Plus it's extra company." Eskel was surprised. That was something that showed personality right? How easy had that been?  
"Aww may every goat find you instead of Geralt." Roach was enough company for the white wolf. Or as Jaskier thought on it a beat longer perhaps the bard was Geralt's bleater. "Oh! Ever compete in the memorial derby? I've performed there a few times it's quite the. . . wait" Jaskier found self restraint. Eskel would surely let him go off on some long winded tangent about how he won over nobility hand over fist with horse knowledge he only knew because he researched breeds for an awful sonnet when at university. Hell Jaskier lost himself in the memory once it hit him, but he wanted Eskel to believe him, he could be a good listener, a friend, more than a fuck. "Why say you have a hen if you . . . have a horse and a goat?"  
"I do like the derby." Eskel nodded. "I have a hen it's a song . . . my favorite song I think."  
"A song?!" Jaskier's smile absolutely exploded. "Ah I . . . It's impossible that I don't know it give me a moment."  
"It's an old one." Eskel smiled, he was entertaining the bard, he was thoroughly racking his brain. "A . . .".There was a knock at the door. "Well it's not Lambert." He opened it a bit annoyed to put a pause to rhe moment.  
"Come on we ignored the meeting as long as we could." Geralt seemed just as unhappy to say the words as Eskel was to hear them.  
"Wait Geralt? Do you know a song about a hen?" Jaskier was stumped he could not believe it.  
"Huh? Song about a hen? Oh that thing your mother sang?" Geralt had heard it before, hundreds if not thousands of times probably. Eskel tended to mutter it while working even after all these years. It was really Eskel's only lasting memory of his mother.  
"Wait don't tell me!" Jaskier said with new vigor, he could not give up so easily.  
"I wasn't going to. I'm leaving . . . We're leaving." Geralt replied flatly, asuming Anima's silliness must be contagious.

The witchers had been in the library for hours, sitting and waiting was losing it's appeal.  
"Maybe . . .No" Jaskier had been struming on his lute one cord at a time hoping that illusive hen song would hit him.  
"Maybe it was a joke? Maybe there's no hen song." Anima was laid out on the dining room table staring at the celing, wondering why the room was so tall, that and wondering when Lidrie would snap.  
"No there is! Geralt knows it."  
"Geralt knows a song that you don't? Now I know it's a joke."  
"Will you two shut up?" Lidrie, had been pacing at the base of the stairwell.  
 _'There's the bend.'_ Anima let out a heavy sigh.  
"No. We were here first. Go easedrop if you care so much." Jaskier strummed a bit louder in protest. "They have been in there a while. What do you think they're going on about?" It was a bit hypocritical of him, scolding Lidrie for wanting to know while curious in his own right. Anima really didn't think a whole lot of conversing was happening, more likely just a circle of stares and grumbles as Vesemir spoke profoundly and presumptiously. She sighed again, it wasn't worth saying, it could be easily avoided, but now was time not to bow but bite.  
"Witcher things you wouldn't understand." Anima rolled her eyes making a spooky gesture with her fingers.  
"That doesn't bother you? That they think you inept?" And there was the snap.  
"They don't think we're inept. Just think we're not witchers. Which . . . we're not. That seems to bother you terribly. Why did you really come here Lidrie? Did you think they'd put you through the trials upon entry?"  
"I . . . can be more than I am, then they give me credit for."  
"Sure you can." Anima was acutely aware that Lidrie dodged the question. "Still can't be a witcher."  
"What's the point? Keeping it all to themselves? In some exclusive club. Why not trust others? They say the care about you but they don't trust you. Not enough to include you."  
"It's exclusive cause there's not many left. Trust is not something you demand it's something that's earned Lidrie."  
"I've put in my-" The sentence was clipped off but the slip was there.  
"Fucking Lambert for a month is not putting in time. So what do you mean? Who are you Lidrie?" Anima had not taken her eyes off the ceiling. "Hicketty Picketty?"  
"What?" Lidrie for the first time sounded something less than annoyingly confident.  
"Wasn't that about a hen?" Anima spoke to Jaskier. "Hickety, pickety, my black hen,  
She lays eggs for gentlemen."  
"You don't even respect me! A whore just like me you're no better and even you look down at me!"  
"Did you intend to answer my question?" Patient, Anima could be patient, she knew what she was doing. "Didn't think so. Why look at you down up or sideways? Nothing's more exclusive than a club of one. Where's the trust Lidrie?" She heard footsteps stomp to a far corner.  
"I've got it!" Jaskier shouted. "The old hen she cackled, she cackled in the yard; The old hen she cackled, she cackled in the lot; The next time she cackled, she cackled in the pot. The old hen she cackled, and she cackled on the fence; The old hen she cackled, and she ain't cackled since."  
"Ha! Again! You did it." Anima was not going to push Lidrie any further, she'd get no more answers in the moment and Lidrie would not do anything to expose whatever she was hiding, it was a careful balance. Instead Anima would be the audience Jaskier needed, this was a balance too, they had to stay sane in this den of distrust somehow, a little silliness never killed anyone.

"Letho I understand your concerns but . . . Is that . . . what is that?" Jaskier's voice carried, pierced, the stone walls of the keep could not even ignore him, even the serious stoic Vesemir was made to listen.  
"That stupid fucking hen song!" Lambert thudded his head against the table. "Can this day get any more annoying? Eskel? Do you really hate silence that much?" His groaning voice was a bit muffled as he spoke directly into aging wood. First lectures, plans, and plots now nursery rhymes, Lambert did very much miss the simple quiet.  
"Acuse as backhanded as you like Vesemir." Letho's seat screeched against the floor as he pushed. "They're the threat to the wolves. Not me." He stood and walked to the door.

"What are they doing?" Lambert's tone hadn't lost it's gloom. The meeting had just disolved after that, at least there was mercy there. The witchers had all funneled down and walked into something they didn't quite understand, something quite silly. Jaskier had, freed of the shackle of remembering a song just gone rambling, off on any manner of silly little tune that hit his head, loud and just light. Anima was spinning along, fast and nearly losing her footing at turns, it was just energy for energy's sake, they were laughing at beats of rest, just stupid laughter.  
"You're not going to stop them? Your just going to let them embarrass you like that?" Lidrie had approached from her sour corner, her question was pointed squarely at Geralt.  
"I'm sure you tried to stop them from being how they are? That work well for you?" Geralt watched with a bizarre fascination, as silly and stupid as they looked, this warmed him. It was like the Inns they loved so much, they were enjoying themselves their way, felt safe enough to do so in his home. It looked less ridiculous in Inns, but then again you don't find a place more serious than Kaer Morhen. They were alone in their pursuit of the trivial, swallowed up by the somber stone, they did look odd.  
"Oh!" Jaskier finally noticed the influx of company and finally stopped. "Anima stop being an idiot they're back."  
"So they are." Anima slowed, a sway to her step as the spinning had taken her sense of balance. Geralt frowned at the stop, that the witchers' presence meant an end to their care free fun, but it made sense, this was no Inn, it never would be. He imagined that made Anima sad, but bizarrely she didn't look it, her legs carried her right to him, right against his chest. There was still sway in her and she seemed pleased enough to have him sturdy her. It was a loose hold, just wrapped softly round her back, letting the sway ebb naturally. "My dance partner's returned." It was a jest of course but it warmed the frown from his face, let it rest neutral as a witcher's face should.  
"Hmm."He wouldn't dance, this wasn't a place for it, but the vague shadow of it, what he could offer was enough. It wasn't silly this time, they way she grabbed his face, pulling it down to her, her kiss was warm, just engulfingly warm.  
"Play it one more time?" Eskel asked almost nervously as he stepped towards the bard.  
"No." Lambert groaned loudly. "No more."  
"You've got legs Lambert. Leave." This was Eskel's home too, he had the right and the resolve to push his weight around. "It normally doesn't sound like that. So . . . happy."  
"I . . ." At first Jaskier went ghost faced. "I didn't mean to make a joke out of it I mean no disrespect to your mother. We just-" He stopped at that too platonic rustling of his hair, before he could read that one way or another he felt Eskel come up behind him, wrapping his arms around the bards waist.  
"You're not my mother." Eskel's voice was so close to Jaskier's ear. "I don't want you to be. I like your version, not better, just different. Play it again?" Eskel asked not needily, just close, so very close.  
"Right! Just once more then! The old hen she cackled, she cackled in the yard . . ." and Kaer Morhen was jostled silly again.

"So . . ." Anima swayed a little more of her own accord in Geralt's hold and he either ignored or indulged it.  
"So?" His feet moved, but in a way that could be brushed off as adjusting for the waves of her.  
"Well one, Lidrie really is more familiar with witchers than we thought, She's had a falling out with one I'm sure, I just don't know if she wants to get back with them or at them."  
"Hmm." Jaskier had started a new tune, one a little less jaunty, demanding a little less sway.  
"Hmm that's all?" Anima sounded a bit inuslted but then again this was hardly a bombshell, more an afirmation, this was information hinted at now just confirmed.  
"Letho . . . thinks . . ." And his hold tightened. Letho had more than thought, he had threatened, teased that the non witchers in the keep were not safe to be around, and in retaliation not safe themselves. That they shouldn't and maybe wouldn't survive the winter.  
"Is that why he's staring daggers?" Anima didn't need Geralt to finish, her swaying stopped. "Alright I wanted fun, not to insult or endanger . . .Geralt?" She had stopped but with a grumble of protest he hadn't, moving them so his back was to the viper, scanning the room as he reminded himself they were not alone. "Stop." He was taking large strides forcing her to lean and sway to keep up. "Last thing I need is for him to strike at you because of all things you let me dance like a fool."  
"I'm not letting you dance." He focused his eyes on her, there was anger there. "I don't let you do anything." He wanted her to know that, to repeat it. Why did everyone think he was in anyway in charge of her actions. Did even she think permission was needed, that he made the rules in Kaer Morhen?  
"No. No. I know." She nodded, leaning up to kiss the worry her poor words had caused off his face. "Still wouldn't like you to stand as a sheild between me and a mound of muscled rage to . . . appease what I want." She hoped that hit better.  
"I don't mind appeasing your wants." It had hit better, warmth returned to his eyes. "And this finally makes dancing interesting." He doubted Letho would just charge at him, he might look like brawn and no brains but that was hardly the case. Still just a little threat of danger, made swaying to meet her steps a bit more purposeful and practical, it was a protective maneuver, he still wasn't dancing.

His eyes went from Anima, then to Letho, then over to Lidrie and Lambert who were over at her sour corner, it seemed they were almost chatting, almost getting along. He didn't want Lidrie to be the cause of this widespread paranoia. It would partially be his fault, Lambert likely wouldn't have allowed any company along if he hadn't heard of Geralt bringing Anima and Jaskier for winter. Had he made his brother easy prey? How would Lambert take it if that was the case? Poorly to be sure. Geralt let his eyes scan further, there was the silent Kolgrim. The other viper looked beaten, broken, absolutely lost and forgotten. He had been all those things, had he felt any peace this whole winter? Just being shrugged off and dismissed by everyone? He had been brave enough to ask for help and everyone had just been too busy for him. Geralt himself had pushed him back and away. Had he done more damage than good bringing Anima and Jaskier here? "Yes?" Anima could feel Geralt tense, worry, let guilt pool in him as it naturally did.  
"Kolgrim. If you . . . talked to him. . ." He still felt distrust, knew how badly the viper wanted Anima to tethered to him. That fact still, pity or not, stoked a bit of anger and fear in the white wolf. "Do you think you could . . . help him?"  
"No harm in trying. If he'll let me speak." Anima knew Kolgrim wanted help, but she also knew he still didn't see her much as a person, more as a tool or crutch.  
"I'll make sure he understands." Geralt could do that, if Anima could be patient, he could force patience down Kolgrim's throat. There was no helping beyond that, they would try and if that was still not enough, then it would never be enough.  
"We'll talk to him after dinner then?"  
"After dinner."

There was no after dinner, there was barely a start to dinner. "This cough is really lasting isn't it?" Eskel gave a firm pat to Jaskier's back as a fit overtook him. It only went from mild acknowledgement to a panic when he saw a blue edge to Jaskier's lips and a feverish shake of the bard's head, something was wrong. "Jaskier what-" There was a thud across the table, Lidrie had fallen to the floor.  
"Shit what's going on?" Lambert was easier to rage than to comfort. "Letho what the fuck did you do?" It seemed the witchers were unaffected, seeing as after checking Lidrie was still among the living he ran clear across the table to repay the punch given to him.  
"Anima?" Geralt could hear the clunking of hard swallows, could hear her heart rate spike.  
"Something that witchers can't smell or taste." She took a swelling breath in but it wasn't helping, she felt like she was drowning. "A poision . . . so it would be in the back of my books Geralt." And her nails clenched in his bicep, holding on for dear life. "You don't have much use for poisions so I . . .Ahhhh!" It was sharp pulsating pain deep in her gut. "Deminishes oxygen to the . . ." Another gulp at nothing. "Blood, could lead to atrophy of-" Her words, her eyes, even her posture was combating against the poison to remain calm.  
"Anima you're going to be fine." His eyes were glued to her but in his peripheral he could see Eskel laying Jaskier down on the floor, the bard was thrashing foaming, screaming.  
"Sure I am." She smiled for him, he could hear her teeth squeaking in pain, but she was smiling, forcing herself calm, those thick swallows were coming faster and faster. "Ahh . . ." She let go of him holding her middle as if it would burst. "Get me . . . my . . .oh . . . fuck." She could be calm all she liked but her vision was bluring round the edges. "Guilt will get you nowhere, my books Geralt!"  
"Your books." It was the tea and water all over again. It registered faintly in the back of his head what she was asking, but his brain vetoed the notion he'd have to leave her to grab them.  
"There's nothing in your afternoon reads I don't have." Vesemir spoke over the commotion. "Geralt get her settled with the others then do your best to keep Lambert and Letho from killing each other!"  
"Go I'm . . . can't tell if being a freak or a picky . . .ahhh . . . eater is helping me . . .but I'll . . .live." She was standing, and smiling, and calm, but she looked of death.  
"Anima, I'm here. I'm right here." He helped her to sit by Jaskier and Lidrie. He could smell it, on each clicking swallow as she laid down, there was blood. He wouldn't bring them here again, his home was no place for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this chapter much better than last, and have decided if I had once less witcher my life would be immesuribly easier. I bet you can't guess who. But I've built this full house now I've got to write them laying in it.


	8. Letho at length

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The who what hows all need answering but for any question answered two more spring up.

"You want me to sacrifice myself for Cintra? I've had a lot of names, been from a lot of places, unlucky for you Cintra's not one of them." She could sense the control ozzing from this sorceress, she would eat Anima alive if she flinched.  
"Not for Cintra." But under that control was need, she needed Anima for something, desperately, so the control wasn't entirely onesided.  
"Did I miss something? Why have you brought me here? I told Triss I didn't trust-"  
"Nilfgaard wants Nehalenia to help them take Cintra and will agree to-"  
"See my confusion?" Anima had heard that name too often as of late, it made her pulse raise, her fear swell, but she pressed it down under a coy smile.  
"She will come back, destiny has blocked off any other crossroad. Your witcher has fought that force for too long and thus will lose one of you for his hubris."  
"One of us?"  
"He hasn't told you? Geralt's child of surprise? If not for Cintra and the north then for her? If not for her then for him. You can buy him a few more years to fight his destiny give him a chance to accept it instead of being devoured by it. Can you say the world need you as much as it needs him? You need to let him move on, accept his destiny." Anima woke from the dream in a heavy sweat, turning over in the cot and vommiting up blood.

"Geralt?!" She rolled to her otherside, out onto the stone floor. She couldn't see straight, why couldn't she see? ' _Poison . . . right.'_ She went to push herself up but couldn't, she couldn't feel her fingers or toes. ' _Fast acting? Slow? How long have I been hallucinating? Some hours surely.'_ She was trying to convince herself that's all she had experienced, tried to sell the chill running through her at the memory as just the posion, this could all be writen off on that damn poison.  
"Anima?" Vesemir had entered the room, she could hear him drop something and shuffled over to her crumpled form. "Damnit girl stay still." He lifted her back into the cot. "Here, this will keep your toxicity levels down I've figured out-" He was holding a vial to her lips.  
"No!" She bucked her chin back. _'bad idea.'_ She turned and coughed up more blood. "Did Triss say why . . .Aretuza oblidged your request? Sorceresses are like witchers. . . nothing for free."  
"Drink." Vesemir spoke is a hushing tone. "Not now."  
"Ahh! Geralt?! Geralt I want to leave! I need to get out of here! I don't want to die!" Fever and fear were rolling through her. They were trapped by the snow, trapped in here with a would be killer and if she survived to the thaw, Vesemir would have her shipped off to be fucked by destiny itself.

Letho had put up little fight after the initial skermish with Lambert. He walked slowly under the gaze of angry wolves, locked inside a cell, because of course this miserable fortress had a cell. "Well out with it? What's the antidote Letho?" Lambert was seething, contemplating entering the bared room and beating the answer out of him.  
"To know that . . ." Even now Letho's words were slow, had no rush to defend himself. "I'd have to know what the poision is, which I don't. I've done nothing."  
"What do you think they poisioned themselves?" Eskel was calmer but still held little creedence for Letho's words.  
"Do you know what killed the witchers? Not beasts . . . blind trust, we trusted what we were made for, who we were made for. You haven't even concidered them becuase they pet and coddle you. They'll destroy you while you're down at their feet." Letho shrugged.That was their choice though, if they wanted kindness at any price, that was on them. "Kolgrim steer clear of the empath if you care to live."  
"What?" The other viper had kept a wide distance, he had been content to be forgotten in the moment. "Letho just tell them . . . if someone is paying you to-"  
"She seems to be fairing better doesn't she wolf?" Letho was prying at Geralt who was stewing quietly in a corner. "Who other than Vesemir knows as much of poisons? She had her wits just fine. The white wolf trusts her. Demands the same of the rest. She's been breaking you down one by one."  
"This is pointless." Geralt's fists were balling, teeth clenching.  
"Why would she do that?" Kolgrim was the only one giving this conversation the time of day.  
"Why? Now that's pointless. Why never matters. It's all about how and who catches you." Letho seemed to lose interest all together, his eyes holding at some nondescript point on the wall.  
"Why . . . doesn't matter." And Kolgrim went for the door.  
"Where are you going?" Lambert grabbed the free viper by the collar.  
"I'm going to search their rooms. You all won't investigate but I will." Kolgrim albeit without much force to his words was standing his ground.  
"If you break something of their's" Geralt kicked himself out of his corner, getting eye to eye with Kolgrim. "Take or defile something of their's. . . " He waited to make sure he had every ounce of the viper's attention. "I'll break you in half Kolgrim. When they wake up, they won't have noticed you touched them, I won't be able to notice. Right?"  
"I . . . yes."  
"Let him snoop Lambert." Geralt moved out of Kolgrim's way, he wouldn't stop him, they had nothing to hide. Lambert did let go and gave Kolgrim a bit of a shove towards the door.  
"So what now?" Eskel's mind was with Jaskier not down here scowling at a witcher who wouldn't give them a straight answer during the best of times, and this was not the best of times.  
"Two can play at this game. I'm going to tear their fucking room apart till I find something. You two go check on your kittens . . . make sure Lidrie's alright?" Lambert was all but out the door, he wanted to stay mad, he didn't want to care or worry.  
"Hmm." Geralt concidered his options, he'd be more useful searching for clues with Lambert, or possibly pooling through books on poisions with Vesemir but then he heard it.  
"Geralt?! Geralt I want to leave!"

Minutes at that was all it took for them to return back to the main hall. Vesemir was blocking the stairwell exit. "Better or worse?" Eskel was pearing over the elder witcher's head, he could see the bard shuffling, heard him groaning, but there wasn't foam pooling in his mouth, he wasn't shouting.  
"Both. It's cadaverine from what I can tell. They'll be better once they can take more Oriole down, I can't give it to them all at once but Animas books were good for that, human remedies and conversions. Did you know she was testing those potions on herself?" Not angry just disapointed.  
"I figured." Geralt had returned to Inns where Anima could swear she was hungover all she liked, witcher potions had an after taste and the after odor to match.  
"Go check on them quick then I need you boys to scrape up more light essence from any loose wraiths down by the lake." Vesemir let Eskel pass but put his hand to stop Geralt from following.  
"What?" He didn't shove past but it read all over his face that he wanted to and only years of respect was making him obey the hold.  
"She needs to rest."  
"I wasn't planning on making her do laps Ves." Geralt was leaning heavily on the balls of his feet, waiting to be let through. He could see her, and unfortunately he could smell the bucket of bile and blood her head was slunk against but he couldn't get to her and that was maddening.  
"She won't take the Oriole and she won't sleep, she started off better than the others but if she won't let this fever break, she'll be just as bad or worse. She can't sweat it out on will power alone."  
"Hmm." It didn't make sense that she wouldn't take the potion unless. "She doesn't trust you."  
"After I put her to sleep with Axii she's now convinced the potions got sedatives in it."  
"If you used Axii then-"  
"Getting her to fall asleep is not the problem, it's having her stay asleep." Vesemir cut him off.  
"She . . . doesn't sleep well." Geralt could only assume it was the nightmares, they had been better lately but with her body fighting the effects of poision why wouldn't her mind battle too.  
"Clearly." For some reason, the way Vesemir said that, just as he had before, clearly, like Anima was obvious and Geralt was just dense for not understanding and predicting her moves made him sneer slightly, made his blood boil. "Now I am not above having her tied down to the table and making good on her fear of being sedated, she won't die of bull headedness but I figured if you can get her to rest of her own accord it'd save us both bit of trouble."  
"I'll have better luck if you let me pass." Geralt couldn't help but notice he was still being held back.  
"Her head's outside the keep, tell her it will wait."  
"Ves . . . move." He respected Vesemir, trusted him, cared for him, but that would only hold Geralt back so long.

As he was finally allowed through his mind played tricks on him. She was sitting up, yes her breathing was heavy with wheeze but still that was better than unconscious right? Maybe Vesemir was wrong, maybe she could just sweat it out. "Anima?"  
"G. . . Geralt!" Her voice was horse but more than that it sounded almost drunk. He sat next to her on the cot and when she looked at him, it didn't hold, it drifted through him, past him. Her head was bobbing forward, then snapping back only to lull again. She was pale and sweaty. Tricks were still playing, this was a good sign, this was her fighting it, her getting sturdier, she wasn't getting worse. Then he placed the back of his hand to her forehead and the trick lost all illusion, burned right under the heat of the fever cooking her brain. She was not getting better simply because they wanted her too.  
 _'Clearly.'_ He could hear in the back of his mind. "Vesemir said you wouldn't take the potion to levy the toxcicity." Geralt spoke softly, using the edge of his sleeve to wipe some sweat from her face, placing her sick bucket on the floor kicking it at a distance with a bit of a grimace.  
"Good. . ." her swallows were still thick and unhealthy. "To know witchers' hearing doesn't deminish with age."  
"You need to rest . . . sleep." He watched as her whole body tensed, her eyes focused on him best she could.  
"No! I won't go . . . I wont let him ship me off. I'm not getting on a boat and-"  
"What?"  
"Cintra!" And she tried to stand but that had her toppling. Geralt quickly caught her and he laid her down.  
"No more standing Anima." And the second he let go she sat up, he placed his hands at her shoulders and guided her back down. "Hmm No more sitting." He let out a sigh of frustration, he was not the best nurse maid. "Lay down . . . rest. Please. What's this about Cintra?" Maybe if he sat with her for a few moments she'd calm, she'd sleep. He thought for a moment then moved, lifted her slightly till her head was in his lap. He tried running his fingers down her arms like she did with him when he was too vigilant for sleep.  
"That's why it happens." It sounded just as scared, but it wasn't a shout more a sigh.  
"Why what happens?"  
"Nehalenia." And this caused Geralt's fingers to stall out, bunch up into fists.  
"I won't let that happen Anima." He growled, he was angry, plain and simple, but anger would not help Anima and Jaskier get better. He glanced over at Eskel, he could hear him murmering that damn hen song as he continued to rythmicaly run his hand through the bard's hair. "You think I'd let someone take you away Anima?"  
"For your kid . . . maybe." She was making less and less sense.  
 _'Kid? This fever and her nightmares are making her mad.'_ Geralt was terribly confused. "For no one. For nothing Anima."  
"Not for Cintra?"  
"Hmm." He felt they were talking in circles. "Anima I'm going to use axii like Vesemir did and-"  
"Geralt please don't." And it hurt, tore at his heart but he couldn't cave. He took her hand and ran his thumb along her wrist. He frowned at the dark purple the edges of her fingertips had taken.  
"You won't wake up in Cintra Anima I promise. You'll wake up here and . . . We have to go get more ingredients for the potion. I need you to stay asleep till I get back. You can do that right? You'll know when I'm back right." He held her hand against his chest, against his heartbeat hoping if nothing else that still grounded her.  
"What if-"  
"Do you trust me Anima?"  
"I . . . do." It was always a bit shaky but it was always there.  
"I always come back to you Anima, always." He watched her eyes close, but she was doing this just to appease him, he could see the fight in her face. He needed her to believe him. "I'll make it worth your while Anima. Just sleep for me, trust me and I'll . . ." What could he offer? What hadn't he already given her.  
"Promise me I don't have to go to Cintra?"  
"I promise."  
"Or the Aretuza?"  
"Aretuza?" What did sorceresses have to do with anything? He shook his head, lifting her hand to his face he kissed the inside of her wrist. "Or Aretuza. You don't have to go anywhere you don't want Anima I promise. Where do you want to go?" It was working, she was losing some of the rigidness in her muscles.  
"We were supposed to go. . ." And her eyes shot open like she might get sick again but she clenched them shut, gulping feverishly to regain composure. He would have to use axii, she wouldn't find rest by herself. "Up the mountain in the morning."  
"I'll make it up to you." He could tell she was stalling, but he'd allow it for a moment or two more. "As soon as your better we'll go. You need to rest to be better. Sleep . . . I'll make you breakfast in the morning how about that?" He was calming them both. Things would be fine, he'd make sure they'd be fine and he would be right back to being good to her.  
"What if you're not there when I wake up Geralt?"  
"I will be. I promise I'll be the first thing you see when you wake up." He'd have to get her to explain this nightmare better. This was the worst yet, not only did she think Nehalenia was coming for her, she thought Geralt would allow it, would leave her and that is why she was fighting sleep so hard. She did not want to return to that reality.  
"And if you're not Geralt?" She wanted something but he didn't know what, she was buying time, he doubted she knew what she wanted beyond that.  
"I will be. You know how sure I am Anima?" He needed to be confident, that he could do, he could be cocky if that's what she wanted.  
"How sure?" And she was smiling, albeit drunkinly and more at the deep hum of his voice than anything but it did them both good.  
"Anima if I'm not the first witcher . . . first person you see when you wake up. I'll let you blindfold me." It was arbitrary throw away statement, it was such a little thing to offset the fear of being sent to have your blood siphoned out to raise a dead god, but it was just the right words, just the right warmth to fight off the cold.  
"Breakfast and blindfolds, am I dreaming already Geralt?"  
"Hmm." And his fingers began twisting in a familiar pattern. "To dream you need to sleep Anima. You need to sleep." He felt a twinge of guilt, if he sat with her longer, he could have gotten her to sleep naturally but even deep in winter he had tasks that needed a witcher, needed him.  
"I need to sleep." That drunken slur grew outright tired, she went lax in his lap.  
"Come on Eskel." Geralt moved fluidly from under Anima's head.  
"Blindfolds Geralt?" Eskel gave a surprised scoff.  
"Hmm." He started walking towards the main door. "You have no room to judge me Eskel."  
"I'm not judging. Just . . . that's not like you." The door gave way to heavy snow fall.  
"Hmm I'm not . . . Like I was."

It shouldn't have been as easy as it was, hunting down enough wraiths to loot for ingredients, but Kaer Morhen's lands were empty of much, but of souls snuffed out with life still unled, unfortunately it was full. "I didn't know how . . . to comfort him." Eskel sounded frustrated, haunted even. Jaskier moaning and writhing in a sickly discomfort and him just . . . running his hand through his hair, nothing else had come to mind, no words, no actions, nothing.  
"It gets less . . . confusing." Geralt shrugged.  
"Less confusing?"  
"I had to put Anima to sleep with a sign because she's scared to death I'll trade her in for some love child in Cintra I've forgotten to mention. It doesn't get easier." It wasn't like monsters, they started a challenge but grew easier, predictable the more time you spent around them. People were different. The more Geralt got to know Anima, the more intertwined they grew the issues they faced only became more and more complicated. Dealing with them did not become easier overtime but the confidence that they could tackle them, they could figure it out did.  
"Now that does sound like the type of trouble you'd find yourself in." Eskel tried to joke and Geralt gave an acknowledging scoff but he was more than half lost in thought. He shook his head, Anima was ill, he had to help, had to help the way she would have, not grumble and shut off. "Find him a book maybe."  
"Huh?"  
"In the library find him a book. Jaskier will piss and moan when he wakes, if you can't think of any of your own stories maybe read him some. He complains less when theres a good story to be had." They were close to the gates. "I don't think any of us can take more of that fucking hen." The gates gave way and while the elements were cold the keep was piping hot.

"I'm going to kill him that's what I'm going to do. Why the fuck not!" Lambert had a sword pulled, just as hot headed as ever.  
"Because were not witch hunters we're Witchers. He's a witcher and he-"  
"So he gets run of the fucking places. He tried to kill them, they're ours more than the vipers. That's Geralt's woman . . . that . . . Lidrie . . . I fucking brought her here, she . . . He shouldn't have fucking-"  
"What happened?" Eskel cut Lambert off as he he and Geralt shook the snow from their shoulders.  
"Kolgrim thought it wise to tell Lambert that he found some thaumador in Letho's things."  
"I thought you said it was cadaverine that poisoned them." Eskel scratched his head, this was all getting a bit muddled.  
"I did and if Lambert would let me get a word out I would have told him such. Sheath your sword jackass." Vesemir was much too old for him to be scolding them like children.  
"If you said what you meant instead of going on about witchers this witchers that." Lambert wanted something, anything to dispell all this rage that had no outlet.  
"Toad to the frog." Geralt shook his head again.  
"Kolgrim found the thaumador? I thought he was going through our rooms? Didn't you tear up Letho's room?" Eskel's ability to observe and disect was in full effect.  
"So?"  
 _'Fuck.'_ Geralt's blood ran cold. "Vesemir where's Kolgrim?" Geralt was already walking, he already knew the answer to the question. Had he underestimated the viper? _'He's got her alone.'_


	9. Killing kolgrim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bed rest can be worse than the poison itself.

"Wake up! Move!" It was that terrible echoy sound of the white void. "Run!"  
 _'I need to sleep I need to wait for Geralt.'_ She was fighting it, could feel herself waking and normally she'd be more than pleased to shake that specter like sound but she knew Geralt was worried, was running himself ragged, he wouldn't rest till she did.  
"Anima." A voice was calling out to her.  
"No sleeping, no staying. Do you wish to die? don't be a disappointment run!" It shook her, rattled her teeth the consuming reverb in her skull.  
"Anima?"  
"Run!"  
 _'I need to wait. Just a little while longer. Geralt asked me to wait for him.'_ She fought but she was spinning, the white was both everywhere and nowhere and Anima felt her head lobbing from side to side and any sense of direction was becoming more and more distant.  
"Waiting will bring wrath." The white had never been so threatening.  
"Hey wake up!" This other voice, Anima tried to focus on it, have it anchor her, but it wasn't Geralt so it's ability to hold wasn't there.  
"If they don't kill him I will. If you won't run fight! Fight or I'll take you now." It was booming, ear splitting.  
"Anima!" And she reached out and tethered to the only glimmer of color among all the white, wrenching herself to reality.  
"What?!!" She rocketed to a seated position and fought every instinct to open her eyes. He'd still be the first person she saw, she'd still wait for him but the white would have swallowed her if she staid a moment more. "What do you need Kolgrim?" She let go, sighing crumbling back to the cot with a sickly whimper, her head throbbed and she couldn't tell if it was from the void or the poison. _'So much for a winter break.'_

"You did it! Again, see that wasn't so hard." Kolgrim sounded elated.  
"No." Anima groaned, pulling a blanket over her face as her heartbeat took another dive and rise. _'Is this what he woke me for? Determined bastard'_ She should have been grateful for waking at all but she felt swindled, used. "Kolgrim what do you need?" She repeated. "What is it that you're looking for?"  
"I found it. There was thaumador in Letho's pack." Kolgrim spoke as if maybe she was just cranky and could be won over if given any incentive to come around.  
"No." She wondered if Kolgrim left she'd be able to get back to sleep at all.  
"No?"  
"Not thaumador, that's too much . . . too fancy . . ." A better word escaped her. "For the likes of us . . . much more simple. Vesemir says it's cadaverine, I'm inclined to agree."  
"He could have used the cadaverine, point is-"  
"Could have. Doubt it." She wanted Kolgrim to stop talking, she wanted to stop hearing, gods her ears hurt. "I don't think it's Letho. If I were on fire he wouldn't piss to put it out, but he doesn't care enough to add a log to the pyre."  
"Do you think it's one of the wolves?" Kolgrim asked for no invite, sat on the edge of her cot.  
"Vesemir doesn't like me, but I doubt he'd curse us only to cure us."  
"So you think I did it?" For the first time under the perky hope of Kolgrim's less gruff voice there was an angry strain.  
"I didn't say that." But she had considered it.  
"It wasn't me." His hand was on her shoulder, and she tensed. She was vulnerable, fatiuged and disoriented, she had to be careful here. It was becoming more and more aparent, such as how quickly he sold his brother viper up the river that Kolgrim was only barely keeping it together. "I wouldn't hurt you Anima." It was bizare, his voice should have seemed far less menacing compared to all the bared teeth and snarling she'd heard as of late but something pitted out in her stomach, she did not feel safe. All the other witchers were gone, the humans barely coming to beside her it was just the two of them.  
"Get off the cot Kolgrim." She sat up and while her eyes begged to open, she kept them shut, she could stand her ground just as stupidly as he was.  
"Listen can you just-"  
"Now Kolgrim. I can MAKE you move."  
"You'd have to attatch to me to do that." He called her bluff in convincing fashion. He wasn't wrong, it wasn't as if she could out muscle the witcher. But she could talk, and she could stall till either her feet came back to her or Vesemir did.  
"And if I did Kolgrim, attach to you like you want so bad what do you expect to happen?" It was not an often craved for practice, in fact she was almost comicly surrounded by those that hated the feeling. Maybe she just needed to get that through to him.  
"Can you just . . . can you fucking look at me!" His shout made her flinch. "I'm . . . just . . .please?" That sounded less menicing, more desperate than anything else.  
 _'Can't say I didn't try.'_ This was no longer the hill to die on, her eyes fluttered open and there sat Kolgrim a face full of emotions that weren't sitting anywhere near right, almost cascading out his pores. "You've made Geralt bad on a promise Kolgrim he'll be quite sour but . . I'm looking at you Kolgrim. Now what?" She was beginning to wonder what was taking Vesemir so long, beginning to worry for the old witcher. "Kolgrim where-"  
"Not like you do when you look at him you're not." And it was a plain enough statement, it was easily understood but not as easily explained back to him.  
"I don't look the way I do at Geralt because I'm tethered to him . . . at least not the way you think. I . . . Kolgrim I look at him that way because I love him." Did he not know the look of someone in love? _'No . . . he does . . . he thinks there's a witcher's work around, some magic to fast pace it.'_ Her thoughts went to what Geralt had said before.  
' _Witchers feel, they know how, they just don't . . . bother.'_ For the long lives they lead witchers were result driven and the time it took to muck around with feelings and falling in love, what witcher had time for that?  
 _'Geralt found time. I made him bother.'_  
"Eskel and the bard don't look at each other that way." Kolgrim, like most witchers was set in his opinions.  
"That's because they're not in love. Despite what Jaskier might believe there are stages between atraction and head over heels in love. Fondness for instance. I can spell it out for you of you'd like." She was stretching this out just speaking to hold Kolgrim's attention from straying. At her side she could hear Jaskier stir a bit more heavily at the sound of his name. "Attraction is simple, something you want to be closer to, experience first hand. And you can do that . . . and just have it be that. Go your separate ways. Fondness is having experienced that attraction up close and personal and wanting more of it, finding is special or dear to you and fondness is nothing to scoff at. I nearly married a man that I was fond of, but you can be fond of someone and not be in love."  
"And how do you make someone love you?"  
"I mean there are potions and curses, bribery, all manner of ways to MAKE someone love you but that's not what I've done to Geralt."  
"What did you do to Geralt?"  
"Think of it like a . . . mutation! Fondness is fondness till . . . and there's no set thing . . . but something happens and then it mutates over time into love. You mutate into someone in love. Geralt and I didn't exactly queue up to fall for someone. That person is just one day part of who you are, part of what you do, how you look at people." That killed some time but she didn't hear footsteps so this bed time story had not been long enough. "Questions?"  
"You can't love more than one person. Not like mothers and friends . . . The way that makes you look at someone like that?"  
"I can't." Anima felt that was the real question there. "Too self concious . . . and honestly a bit too needy. But people can. Hem Vudi and Rize back in Lyria for instance. I'm not sure if they love each other equally or differently, all I know is they're in love and happy so sod all else." She was tiring of talking, her head still throbbed terribly. "Kolgrim I need-"  
"What if someone loved you more than Geralt?" And this got a laugh, no not a laugh a bawdy albeit sickly chortle.  
"I'd like to see someone try." Jaskier rolled to his side right into this conversation. "There isn't. There couldn't be, Geralt is a stuborn lovestruck fool for this one, never blows out that candle, it's too much . . .the two of you . . .give it a rest for the rest of us." The bard was awake and how. "And if . . .if there was, I'm sure Geralt would either take Anima as far away as possible from them or kill whatever loon that tried."  
"I refute none of that." Anima let out a breath, finally someone else could talk, she closed her eyes for a moment, relaxing half a measure.  
"He left you in Gullet. You were brought here hobbled, he pushed you around during training, lets his brother shout at you. Let you get poisoned. I could do better if you'd just look at me." Witchers were fast, faster than empaths, that was a tried and tested fact. He kissed her grabbed her by the face and kissed her. Witchers were also more sensitive than they let on, this was also a fact well established. Anima slammed both her palms against Kolgrim's ears, banging at ever taut drums. The kiss flinched into a bite and he pulled away just enough, gave Anima just enough time. Sure to make him careful of what he wished for, she attached to him, bled an emotion into him, she made a witcher fear, made him run. What neither of them knew was he was running straight into the wolves.

"Kolgrim!" It was swift and deliberate and you could almost feel the give of stone as Geralt lifted and pinned the viper against the wall. Everything offended and alarmed Geralt in equal measure, so much so he almost didn't know how to react, his eyes scanned frenzied for any reason not to gut the man, holding on the medallion round his neck for a moment before his glare rose. Kolgrim's face was full of dread, his heartbeat was fast, in a way it shouldn't be, couldn't be, without outward input. _'She gave him this fear.'_ Geralt's fist peeled back, it had a slight shake in it's recoil but it held there. "Why?" It was such a dark dripping word coming from deep in his chest. "Why couldn't you leave her alone?" He smelled blood, Anima's blood, on Kolgrim, on Kolgrim's lips.  
"Are you going to kill me? Because you think I love her more?" Geralt's eyes grew wide despite the glare.  
"Geralt let him . . ." Vesemir knew that was an imposibility, saw how every muscle in the white wolf had very much caught and sought to slaughter the viper. "Hand him over Geralt. Go to the girl."  
"What?" His primed fist turned, Geralt held his forearm cross Kolgrim's windpipe, pushed beyond hold, began to crush. "What did you do to her? She's on you . . . In you. What. . . ." And he was pressing harder watching the fear in Kolgrim's eyes roll towards panic. "Did you do to her?"  
"I wanted . . . want . . . her . . ." It wasn't exactly fair to ask a man so many questions as you squeeze the voice out of him but Geralt didn't want to be fair, he wanted to be brutal, he wanted to hurt. He shook his head, violently, angrily but he finally removed his arm only to replace it with his palm.  
"I'll kill you Kolgrim." There should have been a rest to that statement, an if or a when perhaps, but there was none. He turned and tossed the viper straight at Vesemir. "I'll kill him." He repeated none the more illuminating.  
"Murder can wait Geralt. Check on them. All of you." Vesemir was quick to pull Kolgrim who was coughing and quaking out of Geralt's reach.

The door didn't open, and Geralt who was already half past rage didn't question it just threw his shoulder into wood. "Fuck!" Could be heard as he slammed a second time and the door began to splinter.  
"I told you that was a waste. It's not going to-"  
"Anima?" Something finally pierced through the rage but it didn't still him, only brought more weight to the final push, the door and the cot wedged up against it gave way.  
"Geralt?! Anima tried very hard to be civil, she tried. This was not her fault. None of you bark at her." Jaskier gave a warning glance to the witchers pouring in the room. Geralt didn't have civility, didn't have words. He paced to them crouched down to his knees. Anima's head was between hers, one hand gripping at her chest the other massaging her throat. He ran a hand into her hair, trying desperately to muster gentleness he tilted it back, to get a decent look at her.  
"Anima?" She was smiling at him but she was at a loss. More likely she was at excess, she had so much of the last few days whirling in her head and she had so much to say but was searching for something her witcher wanted to hear. "Speak . . . Say something Anima." Anything, he needed anything to guide him how to fix this.  
"Second witcher I've seen." She looked winded, looked pale and poisoned and yet she smiled.  
"I know." He nodded, a bit of a jolt when he felt her forehead lean against his. "I'll kill him." He would, he absolutely would but like Vesemir said murder would wait.  
"Don't . . . No need to hurt him I'm-"  
"He hurt you." His growl bowled over the rest of her sentence, his thumb traced a broken lip.  
"You're not mad about a nip." She let out a little scoff.  
"I am mad about a nip." He shook his head.  
"The nip is not what you're most mad about." She corrected.  
"I am most mad that . . ." He let out a handful of heavy breath through his nose as the contact calmed him. "Did you let him go Anima?" Focusing he could hear her heartbeat was still slow, like a witcher's should be.  
"Where is he?"  
"Well Geralt tried to break him through a fucking wall! But Vesemir got up on his witcher high horse and took-" Lambert started.  
"Is Vesemir alright?" Her head rose and Geralt grumbled at the loss of contact, pulling her back.  
"He's fucking fine." Lamberts usual crude canter was welcomed, got a small smile out of Anima. "Can't say the same for Kolgrim if Letho doesn't kill him for selling him out, maybe another one of your shitty bombs will find it's way into the cell." Lambert didn't have many tones, he wasn't remaining the same to sooth her, he was remaining the same because that's who he was. He only changed slightly, his face softened a measure as he walked closer, his eyes lingering on Lidrie.  
"She's a heavy sleeper." Jaskier gave another, this time drier chuckle.  
"You? How are you doing?" And Eskel breached the heated forcefield from which Geralt had been keeping the other witchers at bay.  
"Shot! My nerves Eskel . . . blown. Though poison is the most romantic of murder weapons, it will make for quite the story." Jaskier stood with a groan and this time welcomed the too platonic tussle of his hair, doubly the too soft kiss that followed it, he'd grown fond of it. The action was something he'd receive as underwhelming or dismissive from others but from Eskel, he was growing fond of that touch.

"You let him go?" Geralt hadn't liked Anima's half answer.  
"Yes." Anima nodded.  
"I'm most mad you had to attach to another witcher that-"  
"In your home."  
"In my home." He paroted sadly. "I won't bring you back Anima. You don't have to come back." It wasn't safe, this place wasn't safe for the people he cared about most.  
"Am I not welcome?" And her question was odd and Geralt didn't know how they wound up there so he brushed it away for the moment. He needed to be sure and confident, back to the way he had left things.  
"He doesn't." And it sounded both confident and questioning, Anima heard it as such but she needed a bit more. She placed a palm on his cheek, putting all the warmth she could find into her words.  
"Sure he doesn't . . . but doesn't what exactly?"  
"Love you more than me."  
"Gods." Jaskier's eyes rolled near out of their sockets. "Tell me Geralt does that torch you carry ever grow heavy?"  
"Hmm." And nearly calmed, his frown lifted slightly, and after the motion that followed, briefly. Geralt had leaned in to kiss her but she pulled back.  
"Maybe not yet . . . it would . . . your senses Geralt."  
"Hmm." She had been mid stride again, ahead of the moment. If he had kissed her he'd faintly taste the blood, maybe even taste Kolgrim and it would have him raging and guilt ridden all over again. "I don't like being kept from you." He let out another deep breath. Here in his home, how many times had he been so close to her yet kept away.  
"I know . . . not for long. Maybe after breakfast Geralt? You promised me breakfast."  
"Hmm." He had promised her a lot of things, breakfast had been on the list. He was considering it. She still rightfully needed more rest. He still needed more answers, there were things she was still hiding. But for answers he needed questions, maybe he could think of some over breakfast?  
"Enough with your hmms. You promised Geralt." And she was light again, coy and calm. He had held her long enough, she atleast _felt_ safe. "Jaskier are you hungry? Lidrie you can stop ignoring us the witchers are here."  
"Shut the fuck up!" Lidrie moaned and a chuckle with a hint of relief came from Lambert who had been standing over her arms crossed.  
"I said I'd make you breakfast not the whole keep." Geralt finally pulled back a bit, finally fully back in his wits.  
"I'll help you." Palms pressed against the floor as she tried to stand but Geralt's hand held at her shoulder keeping her seated.  
"Stay." Geralt walked over to the cot he had shot cross the room, after turning and prying at it, making sure it wasn't fully broken he returned it to her, scooping her up and laying her down in it.  
"Eskel will help me. He's become a wiz at tea. Lambert will stay and kill anything that's not a wolf that passes through the doorway." Geralt was confident again, nearly cocky.  
"That seems excessive." Jaskier noted.  
"This week has been excessive bard. You three are magnets for trouble and I . . . I've had enough." Geralt's words rang truer as. _'I won't risk it again. I won't lose you.'_  
"You want me to sleep." Anima had concerns. "Don't use Axii again!" And her eyes grew frantic, seemingly out of nowhere, all the calm hard fought for fleeting.  
"I'd like if you slept." Geralt sat round abouts where Kolgrim had.  
"Never again Geralt! I heard her, she's loud and restless and angry. She's closer, in my-"  
"I won't I promise." He wondered if axii had made the nightmares worse, sent her into the white without the mind to defend herself, he hadn't considered that. "Here." And Geralt pulled his medallion off his neck and his skin itched at the loss, but he handed it to her.  
"What? You'll come back for it? Geralt I'm sure there's dozens of these lying about these walls. I don't need an offering of-" When fear lingered in her, especially after the void, being left was always somewhere in the mix.  
"There are." And that gave him an ill cocked idea, but he packed that away. He let his hand hold at the base of her neck, trying to assure her he was here, he would go but he'd return. "Lambert can't see nightmares and gods that may or may not be inside your blood. But if there's enough magic in this room, it'll shake. You yell for me. Top of your lungs alright? I do expect it back but I'll say it again, I'll come back for **you** , always. I'm here for you always."  
"You dance, you talk. By the gods I've created a monster." Anima smiled, the fear was still lingering about, but she was better. He had shown her, worse than awful, better than good.

"What do they . . ." Eskel was wiping tired eyes, two days going on three without sleep wasn't much to a witcher but it still lacked comfort. "Like to eat?" Eskel stared at the kitchen, he knew how to cook, he hadn't starved on the path, but he knew how to cook for him, for a witcher's palette.  
"What they like we don't have but they'll appreciate the effort. Just start doing something Eskel." They always did. Geralt was more often than not somewhere between an inch and a mile off from what his companions truly wanted or needed but they saw him try and whatever he had was enough, the effort always superseded the actual expectation.  
"Sounds like a cop out to half ass a job." Vesemir appeared, not angry, just disappointed. "What do they want Geralt? It's probably down in that mound of yours in the cellar. Roll up your sleves boys, do some digging."  
"Mound?" Geralt had no idea what he was talking about.  
"Year after year you came back, Roach's back weighed down with everything you'd stumbled across not nailed down. Over winter you filter through what you actually needed and litter the rest round the fortress for me to clean up!"  
"But . . .not throw out? You're both horders." Eskel scoffed.  
"Jaskier likes spices, or atleast likes griping about the lack of them. Anima likes sweets, jams and the like. Lidrie . . ." Geralt had been avoiding Lidrie ever since the stairwell incident.  
"Potatoes? Lambert gave her his last night she had more than the rest, that's why she's still so out of it." For the noticer Geralt was Eskel really did observe the world, or at least his world.  
"I'll be down in a minute Eskel. I need to ask Vesemir something."  
"Who died and made you leader of the pack." It was a moote protest though, Eskel was waving off the duo and making his way to the cellar in search of spices and sweets. "If I find something I want it's mine."

"Yes?" Vesemir questioned once Eskel was gone.  
"Have you talked to Anima about going somewhere?"  
"Yes."  
"Where?" Geralt wasn't sure what he felt. Worried she'd go somewhere without him? After this winter's spectacle he wouldn't blame her for needing a break from the path. He'd gotten so used to her company over the last year, it's not that she wasn't allowed to travel alone, he just would've hoped he could keep her close a little while longer. A long while longer, the more he thought about it, as long as possible, he'd let her go as she pleased but if she was pleased at his side twice the better. Was he angry that Vesemir had put a thought of somewhere else in her head? She feared being left, more than water, more than bruxa more than death. Putting a distance between them had been Vesemir's idea. It was all so clear to Vesemir what should and should not be but he was basing this clarity on old information, neither Anima nor Geralt were who they were a year or so back.  
"That was between me and her if I had wanted to tell you I would have done so." Geralt forgot how agitating integrating a witcher really could be.  
"Cintra?"  
"What's there in Cintra?"  
"You tell me Ves. She doesn't trust you because something about Cintra and sorceresses and boats. I don't know what you told her but if you spoke on my behalf that's not your place to-"  
"Stop." Vesemir this time was not disappointed, he was angry. "I want only the best for you, all of you, always." It was a stern fatherly anger. "Perhaps I . . . Needing others only hurts Geralt and-"  
"And that's my choice Vesemir."  
"It is. If you all want to hurt, I do . . . remember what it's like, the hurt being worth it. . . She's important to you, and there are worse woman who have been worth the hurt. If she'd die early I . . . I don't want that, for either of you. She's . . . not a wolf but I can worry for her like one."  
"And this worrying is sending her where? I won't hide her in a cave somewhere to fend off destiny. Nor will I sell her blood to the sorceresses in Aretuza."  
"I asked Triss to take her there, Aretuza. I know fuck all about Cintra. Anima doesn't understand this power, not entirely. When you know about something it stops being a nightmare. When you know how to fight something, it stops being so threatening. A month or two at Aretuza could open doors and windows on what plagues her."  
"Hmm." It was sound witcher logic, knowing what you are up against is half the battle. "She doesn't want to go?"  
"I don't know what she wants Geralt. She's your hurt not mine."  
"Hmm."  
"Now a question for a question. Your medallion Geralt? Too much excitement? Retiring already?"  
"Down in the cellar, there are rejects? Medallions that were scrapped."  
"Did you lose it in the snow Geralt? We have proper-"  
"I don't want proper wolf medallions Ves just something that works. I can't always be watching them and I can't have them roaming the woods scared of their own shadows. I-"  
"These aren't silver necklaces you find in crates Geralt they mean something they-"  
"So do Anima and Jaskier! They're not some vagabonds I plucked off the side of the road. They mean something, I know they're not witchers. I'm not asking for medallions and armor, silver swords and a page in some codex. I'm asking for something thats collecting dust in your cellar that could help keep them safe, help keep me sane."  
"I'll consider it. If I find three that I can in good conscious part with I will."  
"Three?"  
"If you think me giving your two 'Kittens' as he keeps calling them and not giving one to Lidrie whose hackles rise when a witcher shits and she isn't invited; That I won't hear shouting from both sides? I miss my peace and quiet Geralt." Vesemir almost laughed but more so sighed.


	10. Anima's appetite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast is the a good way to start off a day of new experiences.

Breakfast, beyond bringing the still poison and or potion rattled guests over to the table did have some peace and quiet to it. Geralt and Eskel's efforts were appreciated. Jaskier was noisy even with his mouth full, appreciating something that tasted of more than just heated meats and vegetables. Lidre was fearless, near death had not shied her to a second and third helping of potatoes. And Anima's apetite was still trash. Their bodies needed hearty substance after all the work put in fighting off herbs and ailments but Anima had cup after cup of tea with a unbecoming amounts of sugar in it, a loaf of bread and an large assortment of jams that's lables had long worn off. "You should eat . . . food." Geralt watched as she popped open another jar, blueberry he gathered as the sickly sweet smell hit the air. "Will you at least humor me and try the eggs?" He rolled his eyes, wondering why he had bothered in the first place.  
"Did you make them?"  
"I did."  
"Then I will." She shoveled a portion over onto her plate and her smile made the bother worth it. "Thank you Geralt." He smiled back, he was able to do this, she let him have the moment he had missed the last time they were here. She took all his efforts with such an appreciative ease, with such soft subtle love, it wasn't overbearing or gushing, just an undercurrent, just for him. They ate in silence for a while, till Anima popped open another jar.  
"Holy fuck what died in there?" Lambert's utensils clanked against the table as the group collectively covered their noses. "Are you . . . how can you possibly eat that?" He was absolutely mortified as she spread a knife's full of some thick cream colored monstrosity on bread.  
"Lutefisk." She answered before taking a bite, her face contorted slightly at the taste and texture, but any hesitation was gone by the second bite. "It's whitefish pickled in lye."  
"That sounds absolutely dreadful." Jaskier cringed as she continued to chew.  
"Reminds me of Skellige, which consequently . . . is _absolutely_ dreadful." Anima nodded and swallowed.  
"Why would they do that? Is it any good?" Lambert was equal parts curious and repulsed.  
"The same reason they do anything in Skellige, to prove how manly and in love with the sea they are. And no I don't think you're really meant to enjoy it . . . so much as endure it. Not an every morning staple. I'll put it away." She went to fasten the lid  
"I'll try it." Eskel spoke up, he liked to observe, liked to experience, some things were so bad they're good, at the very least it'd be a story.  
"Are you fucking kidding me? Do you not smell the death filling the room?" Lambert could not fathom the lunacy. Eskel just shrugged a bit of a smile on his face.  
"You will not like it." Anima warned. "But you're more than welcomed to try." She spread another two portions, one for Eskel and one for her, she wouldn't make him suffer alone. "Anyone else?"  
"Fine." Lidrie really could not be left out, even from the unsavory.  
"You too?" And it was lunacy until it prodded at his pride. "If the women can stomach it I'll . . . before I change my mind." Lambert grumbled.  
"A toast of toast I'm in." Jaskier was quick to succumb to a social activity.  
"Vesemir?"  
"So gullible the lot of you. Witchers should-"  
"Always takes action. Wrongly or rightly; that is revealed later. But you should act, be brave, seize life by the scruff of the neck!" Terribly out of context, went against half a dozen lectures of caution but Lambert knew Vesemir liked hearing his own words shot back at him.  
"For listening." Vesemir nodded.  
"Geralt?" Jaskier directed the attention of the room to the white wolf. Anima turned and she shook her head no.  
"Head my warning Geralt. You WILL NOT . . . Like is underselling . . . You will hate it Geralt."  
"I believe you." Geralt nodded. "I don't want it."  
"Puss." Lambert gave an arrogant scoff.  
"I did not say I wouldn't have it." Geralt was quick to correct the oversight.  
"Geralt I-"  
"I will taste fish and lye regardless, I imagine that's a taste that lingers. I'd rather blame it on bread than on your lips." Geralt tried it her way, tried to be mid stride.  
"Fine. No one blame your untimely deaths on me." And she dolled out small portions out across the table. "Now hold your nose, chew as little as possible and swallow." She warned.  
"You chewed, didn't-" Lidrie started but was promptly shut down.  
"I don't have a witcher's nose or a human's constitution and even so I've been washing my mouth with sweets for decades to rid me of the taste of it. Don't chew . . . don't swallow just endure. Wassail!" And they did and there were gags, coughs and curses someone, it was unclear who outright vomited, but then they laughed, together.

"So . . ."  
"Hmm" He had brought her back to his room after another check by Vessmir, the poison wasn't completely gone but her fever had broken. "Is this a short so Anima? You need more sleep."  
"I don't want more sleep Geralt."  
"I know." The nightmares had stolen that from her. "That's why I said need." He frowned at the squirm about her as she sat on the bed. "I'll be here this time. I'll . . . anchor you." She didn't lie down just sat looking sick solemn and squirmy. "So what?" Maybe it wouldn't hurt to stay awake a little.  
"Letho and Kolgrim. Are they just going to spend the rest of the winter in holding?" Geralt was surprised by her tone, she seemed . . . upset.  
"One of them tried to poison you and-"  
"We don't know that."  
"I know the your lip is busted from Kolgrim's teeth."  
"He didn't mean to bite me, I smashed my hands on his ears and-"  
"His teeth shouldn't have been that close to your lips in the first place."  
"And Lidrie's face shouldn't have been at your crotch but she's free to come and go as she pleases."  
"That's . . ." He knew she wasn't going to like his answer, he tried to word it and reword it in his head but it never came together much better.  
"Different? Because Lambert likes Lidrie and the wolves could give or take the vipers?"  
"Different because she's a human."  
"What does that have to do with anything?"  
"We deal with untrustworthy humans day in and day out, brush shoulders with them, do work for them, trade blows with them. We can handle that, we . . . expect that. In these walls I should be able to trust a witcher sitting across from me. There's not a tolerance for mistrust, because if we're wrong . . . if we trust them and we're wrong that's how I get stabbed in my sleep Anima."  
"I . . ." This was their home, their rules, they seemed a bit lopsided and cocky but she wasn't sure it was her place to push. In their defense they probably didn't have many rules in place for humans in the keep. How many over the years had come there? It sort of made sense when you squinted. Any witcher with nowhere to winter seemed welcomed here, but outsiders, the invite process, the trust had to be something substantial. "Do you think he trusts Lidrie that much?"  
"Not originaly. He got his smalls in a bunch when he heard you were coming and made a call that's got us all on edge. If she hurt someone . . . Lambert would feel at fault. Would it put your bleeding heart to ease if I told you Letho probably prefers the quiet down there and Kolgrim's much safer there than he'd be up here? I would have killed him Anima, I smelled your blood on his lips and every time I see him that image is going to flood my brain and if I'm in the wrong mood-"  
"Breathe Geralt." She could see the anger start to flicker in his eyes. "A split lip is nothing to lose your head over." The tides had turned, it was Geralt who was squirming and thinking.  
"I'm sorry." His shoulders grew heavy.  
"You worry I can understand that." She knew he tried, did his best to not let worry sour into anger but it was hard, edge had been sharpened into him over years he couldn't always keep it reigned in.  
"I wanted . . . this to be . . . better this time. It's shit, just . . . stupid." Poisons, bombs, colds and sprained ankles, jealous women, witchers with boundary issues just a tornado of ridiculousness.  
"It is better." Anima leaned her head on his shoulder.  
"How do you define better?" He grumbled, the anger was leaving at her closeness but he was just getting . . . tired.  
"You've had no fun since you've been here? We've got no stories to look back at fondly? Breakfast was a laugh."  
"Hmm." Tired muscles in his face worked to smirk slightly.  
"You need sleep Geralt. When did you last close your eyes."  
"close my . . . fuck!" And his head snapped up and his eyes were blown wide in almost fear.  
"Geralt?"  
"I said I'd be the first person you saw."  
"It's alright Geralt I'm not mad at you, I know you intended to-"  
"The blindfold."  
"Huh?"  
"I said if I wasn't you could blindfold me." He stood as an odd placed surge of adrenalin hit him.  
"Goodness Geralt calm down! I won't, it's fine. I didn't plan on it."  
"I mean what I say." He was pacing the floor.  
"Ok . . . so . . . do you want me to?" She was confused, he seemed both committed and condemned in each step.  
"No . . . I mean . . . the idea of it just . . ."  
"Goes against . . . your head."  
"Hmm." He stopped pacing and looked up, he was confused.  
"I don't want you to be uncomfortable Geralt."  
"I trust you." He nodded thoughtfully as if to supersede the concerning prospect.  
"You don't need to prove that to me. You don't have to allow yourself to be made-"  
"Do you think . . ."  
"That if you tried you'd like it?"  
"Why do you ask me things if you already know what I'm going to say?"  
"If you did it now it'd be Lutefisk, enduring for experience sake. Lay down with me. We'll nap and if you are still curious and in a better frame of mind when you wake. I . . . I have an idea. Take off your shirt and lay down." She could see his ego bruising with each word, he was taking this as some insult to his ability to be who he said he was. She stood, how was she supposed to remain strong and relent at the same time.  
"What are you going to do." He was already removing his tunic, hoping she believed him, he trusted her, loved her, was a man of action a man of his word.  
"Tread softly. We are going to nap, you are in no mood to lose your eyes" She stood and waited patiently for him to lie down. Once he did she turned and brought out one of the scarves from Lyria. "Let me see your left hand?" She asked softly and she watched the cogs turn in Geralt's head. "If it's something you can do comfortably, I'd like to tie it loose to the headboard. I _will_ wake up with you next to me Geralt."  
"I can do that." He could find a way to lay comfortably if that made her confident he'd stay, if it meant she rested. That made sense, she needed this of him. It bristled his brain less that way. He only tugged and pulled slightly when the scarf knotted around his wrist. By the time she was nestled against his chest he felt fine, better than fine, relaxed, assured.  
"Thank you Geralt. We'll just rest a little while alright? I don't want your arm going stiff or-"  
"Sleep . . . please. I'm here, you're alright." And his free arm held her a bit tighter.  
"We're alright."

He woke to his arm slumping down to his side. "What?" He wiggled his wrist slightly shaking loose some pins and needles. It felt good to move, but it had been nice to be stuck in one place for a moment.  
"I said we'd only rest a bit, we went right through lunch." She took his hand in the both of hers and kissed at it softly. "I know you hate a wasted day. If you have plans-"  
"That was it?"  
"I mean you can sleep longer if you'd like. Geralt of Rivia not dead or dying sleeping a whole day away. Is such a fantasy possible?"  
"You know what I mean. You've made that abundantly clear." He grumbled as he rolled his shoulder.  
"So you're still curious? Fine . . . lets take a bath first, I smell of death and your arm might still be-"  
"My arm is fine." She was being too cautious for Geralt's patience.  
"Good. Great. Just enjoy the bath then and if you'd like when we get back I'll have both your hands."  
"My hands."  
"What I said." Anima nodded as she stood.  
"Not my eyes."  
"Two eyes for two hands. A fair trade off in my mind." They were dressed and walking by this point but the short worded exchange continued.  
"But I said if-"  
"I know what you said and I'm asking for an exchange."  
"Why?"  
"Does it matter? Would you prefer if I took your eyes instead of your hands"  
"I would prefer you not say **take** my eyes."  
"Well it would, you wouldn't be able to see Geralt."  
"I know what a blindfold does." She had done it for him, he was capable, he was confident enough to do it for her.  
"And I know that you don't like being left in the dark."

 _'Damnit.'_ She wasn't wrong. He tried, and sitting in the bath closing his eyes and relaxing, was just that, relaxing, until it was too relaxing. Until he could feel his lids twitch and finally with a frustrated sigh he'd open them. "You did it." He didn't mean for the statement to sound as patronizing as it did but Anima only glared for a moment. "Sorry I just-"  
"You'll trust me eventually . . . maybe . . . hopefully." She shrugged before dunking her head under water.  
"I trust you." He was quick to spout when she surfaced. "I've told you that." She didn't belive his words and his ego crumpled further. But could he blame her? He'd said he would be back from in Gulet in a month, he was late. He had said he'd be there when she was woke after he put her to sleep, it had been Kolgrim, he had said Kaer Morhen would be different this time, Kaer Morhen was never different.  
"In most ways yes. Just not to keep you safe for the time it would take to snap a headboard and remove a blindfold. Understandable you've had no one to rely on to keep you safe but yourself for . . . years. I don't take it personally." She wondered if he'd ever really be able to shake it, the guilt, the worry that seemed to cling to him.  
"I could keep myself safe with my eyes closed." He mustered a chuckle. "I already told you I don't fear for myself . . . not seeing you when I know I should makes me . . . ." He wasn't sure exactly sure how it made him feel. It wasn't exactly fear, more anxious or uncertain, that was more it. He was uncertain that she'd be there when he opened his eyes, or if she'd disappear having only been like those dreams when he wasn't a butcher.  
"Well enough lamenting on what I'm not asking of you yet, how about you let yourself enjoy what I am?"  
"Hmm." He gave a relenting kiss, it still tasted of defeat, or possibly lutefisk he couldn't quite tell, they were equally foul.  
"Out of the bath, into our bed! I will wipe that frown from you if it's the last thing I do!"  
 _'Our.'_ He kissed her again, the taste was leaving, that word always cleansed him, always held hope that she wouldn't disappear.

The left hand went up and was tied just as before, with a little tug and pull just as before. Then followed the right, his hands had been taken from him. He felt exposed, vulnerable, it wasn't right but he remembered the feeling of holding Anima stuck in place and his mind calmed a measure. She needed him to do this, needed this to prove he trusted her, and fulfilling a need made sense, overrode the sensation of dread not having his hands would normally flood in him. "Are you alright?" She asked softly, she was straddling his waist, looking down at her trapped witcher with the most caring of smiles.  
"I feel . . . useless." He didn't know why he decided to be so open and frank. "I don't mean-" He didn't want her to take that as a denial, that he couldn't do this for her, didn't want to so this for her. "You're happy?"  
"Not yet." She kissed him, it was confident, his words had not derailed her. "But we will be. Just . . . try and trust me." Her kiss went hungry and then began roaming down his neck.  
"Hmm." And it felt nice, and she felt warm and secure and close.  
"Tell me if you begin to feel bothered." She didn't mention fear or overloaded or uncomfortable, he wouldn't be able to tell her those things, but if she lumped all those emotions under the veil of bothered, his ego would allow for that. "You will? Please."  
"I will. Stop talking so much." He wanted the kisses to continue wanted to focus on that. They did, they kept coming and kept trailing, hungry and exploring over his bare chest, going lower honing in on the coiling heat in his abdomen. For a moment he was bothered, or as he let his mind asses the feeling, frustrated. He heard her stifle a little moan as his hips rose and he wanted her hair in his hands, wanted to pull her face up to his so he could pull that moan from her, nuzzle her nose along her neck to prompt it from hiding. "Up." He breathed out unintentionally. She didn't ask what or why but was simply there, crushing her lips wonderfully confident against his. This was pleasant, asking and receiving so simply, not needing words and explanations. Her hands were reaching where her mouth had previously occupied and the heat and pressure building was growing uncomfortable. He was still half clothed and he very much did not want to be, perhaps he could ask again and she would understand him simply. "I can't . . ." And he let out a groan as a hand ventured within his trousers, easing the pressure slightly. "Get me out of them." He bucked his hips into her hold.  
"Are you alright Geralt?" She had misheard him, ever conscious of his bonds.  
"No." He was even less alright as her hand left his trousers and was at his right wrist. "No." He stated again. So these scarves did not leave her omnipresent, he did need some words. "My fucking pants Anima! I can't get out of them alone." And he felt her fingers stall out on the scarf. "I didn't mean-" He had barked at her but it was unintentional, he just didn't want to stop, he wanted to keep going.  
"I know that Geralt. Just trust me I promise I'll take care of you. Let me be good to you." And the way she had wound his own words back at him scrambled his brain. Luckily she either didn't want or couldn't wait for his answer, his trousers were quickly off, followed without request by his smalls. He didn't get that vulnerable feeling, there was no space, he was full of heat and want. Her hand was on him a hair past coaxing, her mouth was kissing and licking at his twisting hips, mostly soft touches just strong enough to starve off the pressure. He felt frustrated again, that he couldn't feel her, touch her.  
"Anima I . . . hmm." Her legs went around just one of his, her hips ground low, riding and sliding and letting him feel her warmth her heat, wanting pressure right along side him. "Get . . ." But he stopped, he didn't bark or demand, or even ask, he would trust her, because trusting meant more, meant she wouldn't stop. It all felt like more, she felt like more, closer than she'd ever been, warmer. Was it because he couldn't touch, had he become hyper sensitive to the feel of her because his ability was gone? This got him thinking, well one idea fought it's way through his heat rattled brain. If taking away his touch made the feel of her more. Would taking away other senses make other parts of her more _. 'Louder.'_ He needed to know, if that was a possibility he had to have it. "Anima I want . . ." His voice was a bit looser than he thought it would be. "To try . . .please." She stopped again which was awful but his heart was set on louder and he could bear this mild discomfort.  
"Why?" She didn't deny him, she was off him, she was getting the third scarf but once it was in her hands she waited, she needed an answer, she looked . . . unsure.  
" I . . . I want it . . . I want . . ." Wanting things had been so hard up to this point, she had to dig and pry and pull to get them but he'd been admitting them left and right since lying down. She needed him to want this, needed him to say it, he could give that to her. "Louder . . . I want you Anima, I want-" The reasoning wasn't wording itself correctly.  
"Your hearing will make up for your eyes." She was however the seer of all wants and needs, she didn't require him to spell it out and for that he was thankful.

She had let him adjust to the dark for a moment, running a thumb along his cheek waiting till all sense of squirm left him before speaking. "Would you like your hands back Geralt? It had been an exchange I don't need you to give everything to me." And while it was an offer, it sounded so much better than that and his chest swelled and his hips rose as it hit every part of him in the best way.  
"I trust you." Everything, he could give her everything and she would take it, take all of him, with care and consideration, she would love everything about him.  
"I love you Geralt." It was twice the better to hear it confirmed. It seemed to start all over again. "I love you so much." The warm kisses were even hotter and hungrier than before, pressing into him so there was no way to wonder if she had left. As they trailed down a familiar path he felt her blow breath over a patch of moist skin and it tickled and burned and washed all over him. Instead of her hand it was her mouth that took him and it left him panting and groaning and close. He figured she would slow, she would stall, drawing it out because she had been so patient for him, she would demand the same. She didn't though, slow or stall, tease just because she had the ability to do so, she just let him ride closer and closer. It hit him unexpectedly, he had been lost somewhere just floating and enjoying, so sure of the stop that when release was just allowed and given he nearly choked on the groan it elicited. She was, just as she said, being good to him.

He heard it, louder, it was just a heady effort spent pant but it confirmed his hopes, she was louder like this. "Up." He wanted to know if she tasted more, louder was enough but if he could have more he wanted it. "Please." She kissed her way up to him, never losing contact as she rose. Her lips hit his and he could faintly taste himself on her which was . . . odd but he shrugged that off, pulling his head back to clarify. "Up . . . more."  
"Geralt anymore up and I'll be on the ceiling."  
Not omnipotent, he had to keep reminding himself.  
"I want . . . to return the favor." He had asked her to take that position before but he knew it wasn't her favorite, she preferred to be under his mouth not over it but his options here were limited, short of flipping the bed under his weight he had no other way. Again there was no denial, she didn't even say he needed to trust her or ask why she just kept allowing, kept giving. He couldn't see her but he could feel the heat from her thighs at his cheeks, smell her want, as she lowered softly. Once he opened his mouth and let his tongue slide across her he could taste her, she gave a beautiful gasp of a moan and it rang in Geralt's ears, louder. He groaned into her. Finally given an action, all his effort and energy went into it, he could just let all his senses rest on her and nothing else. His efforts were rewarded, louder, he didn't have to ask she just gave him her moans, louder because she couldn't not, because he was being good to her. "Geralt I . . ." She took a fist full of his hair but didn't pull, he could feel the tenseness there, she wanted to, need to, she was close and needed something to grip and hold firm. He tried to tell her to but he couldn't get away, she was right there and it would be cruel to pull back. He heard her release and it was confident, not hiding from him it was nearly perfect. As she rode it down and she moved from her perch she was shaky, he wanted to hold and soothe the aftershock. "Anima I want my hands back." He swore he heard a chuckle and for a moment he squirmed worried she wouldn't oblige this request but it came and went. She had given him everything he had asked for, simply because he asked and this was no different. First the right, and he took her hand in his, placing it in his hair squeezing her fingers within it. Then the left, he had his hands back.  
"Do you want your eyes back G-" He had turned her under him, he wanted nothing else from her he wanted to give.  
"I have you." He had so much unexpelled energy, lighter nicer words couldn't break through his need to act. Act he did, thrusting inside he let out a pleased groan as her hand bunched into his hair. He didn't want her to ask or want for anything, just continue being louder, he focused on following the guide of her writhe, he let his arm go under her shoulders pulling her up to him, holding her, just as tight as was comfortable. His teeth dug into her shoulder he wanted to hear her, only her as they both grew tight, closer and closer. It was loud and confident and this time when she rode down, he was holding her, giving her something to grip on. "I have you." He breathed as he pulled back slightly, it sounded more loving, less threatening on the exhale than it had on the sharp needy inhale.  
"Close your eyes." And it was gone, Geralt was back in the real world, he opened his eyes a bit too soon blinking in the too bright room. "I'm still here." She was stuck under his stare for a moment or two before speaking again. "So?"  
"Hmm." Again with the sos, but he was in a fairly good mood so it didn't bother him as much. "It was . . ." And his lips moved as he mulled over the correct word.  
"There was something about it you didn't like." She stated after the pause got too long. "I think I know what it is but-"  
"I'm sure that you do." He laid comfortably on his back running his fingers through her hair as she laid at her spot against his heart.  
"But I'd like you to tell me. To trust it's ok to tell me."  
"I enjoyed myself I just . . . didn't like not being able to touch you." Maybe alone it would have been fine, but feeling her shake and not seeing her eyes to know she was alright had taken him out of what he assumed to be the desired mindset. "Maybe not often . . . and not both, I need some . . . hands or eyes . . . part of me needs to be . . . on you." It sounded possessive but it wasn't that, he just was a worrier by nature and he needed some assurance to ease said worry.  
"I-"  
"I know you said one or the other, you offered to let my hands go and I was impatient it's not your fault-"  
"I agree . . . was what I was going to say. That both is too much, and I knew that and still I allowed both. You just so rarely tell me what you want outside of you know . . . louder!" Her cheeks reddened with her chuckled "I just wanted to give you . . . everything. There's a place between needing nothing and no one and wanting everything. We just need to find that place." Silence came again but it wasn't stifling or awkward. "So-"  
"Anima?!" One so he could tolerate not two.  
"We still have the rest if the day and we haven't accomplished much. what did you want to do. It's too late to start for the mountain but-"  
"You _were_ poisoned remember? You're allowed to just rest a bit."  
"Yes but can I get you to rest with me without having to tie you to a head board?"  
"Hmm. We do have to wake early tomorrow. Geralt of Rivia not dead or dying sleeping a whole day away." He could make that fantasy a reality. And yet the mountain would remain elusive, snow would grow inpenitrable over the next couple days and there was still the matter of Sozada's omen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm struggling with the next chapter so it may be a few days.


	11. Pack mentailty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With cards out on the table who will get left out in the snow?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably should have broken this into two chapters . . . but I didn't.

Lidrie woke to darkness. _'Is it night already? How long have I been asleep?'_ She groaned as sore muscles still working posion from them stretched.  
"You really are a heavy sleeper." Lambert spoke from a chair in the corner of the room. "Here." Lidrie was still being given small doses of oriel, she had injested more than Anima or even Jaskier. "You really should be more considerate warn people . . . you're alive."  
"Why aren't you in bed?" They didn't share the bed with the same closeness shared by the other witchers and their companions but they did share it, once Lambert's arm and leg had shifted over Lirdrie, an accident he would attest, but nearly close to cuddling. Lidrie had grown accustomed to seeing the foul tempered witcher grunt and grumble in the sheets beside her.  
"You've been hogging it. Tossing and fucking turning. Will you drink it already?" He still had the potion in his hand for her to take. She did but each gulp was sad, tasted of absolute failure. How long could she keep this up?  
"You can get in I'll stop moving." She handed the bottle back to him.  
"Can you promise you won't throw up on me again?"  
"Again?"  
"Breakfast the other day you tossed it on my shoes." He saw her consider an apology but he didn't really feel like hearing it, sorrys meant shit. "You're not the first, won't be the last. Comes with the job." She still seemed to be thinking of something, usually she was quite out with her words, he somewhat admired that in her. "What?"  
"I need to tell you something."  
"Yeah that's why I said what? All ears Lidrie. Is it about you trying to suck Geralt's cock?" He saw her eyes get spooked for a moment. "Yeah that comes with the job too. We can't all be so alustrious and charming as the-"  
"Before I found you I traveled with a band of cats!" She blurted. "There's a contract out on the white wolf. They sent me to gather information about his wearabouts in Lyria. They knew he traveled there often for the empath. I found he was on his way, just my luck. I could hide among the empath's friends, kill him myself and-" It started and showed no sign of stopping.  
"Before you . . . found me?" If he had been Eskel maybe little red flags would have shown from the very beginning, that it had been a trap. Too convenient how eager Lidrie was to join him in Kaer Morhen, he couldn't remember now that he thought about it if he had suggested it or her. How she acted since they had been here, he had noticed that, he just . . . didn't care. Yes there were unanswered questions, things that didn't add up but he had been willfully blind. He didn't want to be alone. "You didn't have any luck killing one witcher so you figured you'd have another bring you into their den surround yourself with them? The bomb? That was your big fucking plan?" Lambert's tone was raised but this was true anger not just his standoffish demenor. It wasn't squarely pointed at Lidrie either, he wasn't even looking at her, glaring instead at his boots. He had brought havok into the walls, it was his fault.  
"I could have killed him in Lyria but . . . I saw the way he fucking looked at her and I couln't take it anymore. I hated them I hated the cats I hated all witchers and those who associated themselves with them. I didn't want to help the cats I wanted my own revenge!"  
"What because they're in love give me a fucking-"  
"He respected her! I don't give a shit about love! I trained with them, worked with them, bled and broke for the cats and they didn't respect me, they tolerated me! Because they were mighty witchers and I was a lowly human!"  
"Why are you telling me this? What's with the sudden conscience? Did Letho figure you out? Knew you were out for the witchers and-" What was he going to do about this? How was he going to fix it?  
"Letho didn't poison us I did." It got worse. Lambert ran his hand through his hair, his head reeling, it got worse. He could patch over brining in someone who ineffectively tried to take down a witcher or two but Geralt would kill both Lidrie and possibly Lambert for allowing Anima and Jaskier to get caught up in this.  
"You couldn't kill the witchers so you went on a suicide mission? What did the bard do to you?"  
"He just waltzed in it took him what minutes maybe hours to have Eskel's eye, his respect, his attention? There must be something wrong with me I tried and tried and was never enough. I knew they wouldn't consume enough to kill them I just wanted them to . . . hurt like I . . . It all was just given to them. What I worked for!"  
"Fuck." Lambert kicked the chair he'd been sitting in across the room. "Why are you telling me this? You could've kept the lie going we're past half way there I would have taken you to the Marnadal valley in spring you'd never have to see another witcher as long as you lived."  
"They know the wolves feel safe in Kaer Morhen, they're as jealous of this hunk of stone as I am of the empath and bard. They might know he's here now, they could come. I . . . you rubbed my back when I was hurling, you gave a shit . . . about me. It might not be respect but it was something. You shouldn't die." Was he the white wolf? Were there songs and campfire tales of his escapades? No. Did he have friends human, elven, dwarven and every creature in between? No. He wasn't level headed and productively neutral like Eskel nor had he found a meaningful calling like Vesemir but he had changed someone's opinion on witchers or at least their opinion on him. To Lidrie Lambert had been a witcher not worthing hating and spitting on, one she wished life not death, that wasn't something he had before, not just for himself. It had always been second hand, someone who had been saved by a kinder, better witcher and out of some endentured reverance they had the time of day for him. Lidrie had done awful, terrible things but she had given him something he'd never had or never seen before and it made her motives somewhat understandable, she respected him.

He began to pace. The cats would be crazy to try and what? Storm Kaer Morhen in the dead of winter? That was just the thing though, the cats were crazy. He had brushed his concerns about Lidrie's witcher obsession under the rug and look where that had gotten him? He couldn't make the same mistake twice. He needed to tell someone, they needed to be prepared. He needed to tell Vesemir, but Lambert worried the elder witcher would throw her out into the snow, no protective witcher moniker to save her, she was in no shape for that. _'Fuck.'_ Lambert cared just enough to not want her to freeze to death. He needed to tell someone before speaking to Vesemir, someone who had compassionate convincing words. Geralt was out, it'd be Kolgrim all over again. Which meant Anima was out, Geralt wasn't letting her out of his sight anytime soon. _'The bard!'_ It was perfect, the bard new how to sweet talk and as a fellow human he was sure to want to help. "You're still bed ridden right?"  
"I could probably stand." Lidrie was pushing her weight on sore joints.  
"Don't! Don't fucking move or talk or . . . just don't do anything till I get back . . .Fuck!" Lambert slammed the door behind him.

"Learn to knock asshole!" It wasn't his dick in the breeze but the decent from heavy petting had been close. Eskel threw a pillow at Lambert's face.  
"This is fucking serious I need the bard?"  
"For what?" Jaskier always felt a swell of both excitment and nerves when asked of something by a witcher, it so rarely fit nicely into his skill set.  
"He has a name Lambert. If you need something of him use it." Eskel was weary of whatever use Lambert had for Jaskier.  
"There's no fucking . . . fine JASKIER . . . I need you to tell me how to explain to Vesemir not to throw Lidrie out."  
"Why would he throw her out?" Jaskier and Eskel sat on the bed watching the frustration boil in Lambert's face as he realized he'd have to explain himself.  
"Cause all the crazy shit wasn't the Vipers it was Lidrie!" He figured that summed it up decently.  
"And you don't want her thrown out?" Eskel wasn't neccesarily pro making Lidrie into an icicle but Lambert was pretty black and white on things, this surprised him.  
"Wait the poison too? Why?" Jaskier added, cleary it did not sum things up decently.  
"She was with the cats, there's a contract on Geralt. She was going to kill him, then she was going to kill . . . I don't know anyone, everyone but now she doesn't want me dead cause I rubed her back while she hurled." There couldn't be anymore they needed to know.  
"And you don't want her thrown out? You are going to need Jaskier's help." Eskel let out a sigh.  
"Contract on Geralt? Why? Oh no the vision! He's going to be stabbed! You did tell him right?" More fucking questions.  
"Are you out of your mind? She tried to kill you and his road tart. If he gets a wiff of this he'll kill her."  
"Geralt won't kill her."  
"You didn't see him with Kolgrim." Lambert shook his head.  
"No but I've seen him with humans. It's not just Geralt, wolves seem to have a softspot for them." Jaskier pointed out.  
"We'll tell him . . .after you help me talk to Vesemir. Geralt won't listen to us but he'll have to listen to Ves. Geralt can keep from getting himself stabbed till then. Will you help me or not?"  
"I shouldn't you've been a bully this whole time why should I care if you've grown feelings for a woman whose been just as awful to us." Jaskier would help, he had decided that once Lambert conceded to calling him by name but it didn't mean he shouldn't point out he had no obligation to.  
"I don't care about her. I just don't want her to die. If . . . I won't apologize for calling you two on your bullshit I'm not going to grovel. If you won't fucking help-"  
"Calm down Lambert you'll pop something. I'll help" Jaskier's eyes followed Lambert as he started pacing again. "On two conditions." Jaskier was a distraction by virtue, he could sway even Vesemir he was sure of it, but he was a bard by trade and much like witchers bards don't do much of anything for free.  
"I said I'm not-"  
"First for the remainder of the winter you won't call us kittens. I'm a man damnit, a human being."  
"Can't take a fucking . . . fine. What's the second one?" Lambert stopped pacing for a brief moment.  
"I need to check on Geralt first. He is my friend and if he dies and I had knowledge of it I'd never forgive myself. That and Anima would pull my soul through my nose."  
"That's a very specific threat." Eskel arched a brow.  
"She threatens . . . very specifically." He had heard it more than once, and he was no more eager to call her on it than the first time she said it.  
"You're not fucking listening I said we'd tell him-"  
" **You're** not listening." Jaskier stood and started to dress. "I said I need to check on him, not tell him anything. In the vision Geralt was stabbed in his sleep. I'll make sure he's awake, tell him to stay that way and we can go on defending the honor of your homicidal harlot."  
"I . . .you two go check to your heart's content. I'm going to . . . I don't know make sure the cats aren't hiding in barels or some shit."

He knocked, nothing, knocked again, still nothing. "Geralt? Anima?" Jaskier tried to sound just bothered not panicked. "You in there? Hello?" More knocking still nothing.  
"They're not." Eskel had let Jaskier pace ahead and was finally catching up.  
"Oh." Jaskier had not expected that. "Do you know where they may be?"  
"It's . . ." It wasn't that simple, this was their home, the whole placed smelled of years of them, he hadn't heard any heartbeats coming from the room, his ears tried their best but the large stone walls cast echoes it would take more effort to really place them. "They're headed upstairs."  
"Good that's good come on." Jaskier tugged on Eskel's wrist, attempting to head the way of the stairwell but the witcher didn't move.  
"Isn't that proof enough they're alive and awake? Or do you plan to spill something Jaskier?" Eskel was thoughtful as always.  
"Eskel I-"  
"I won't stop you. They're both my brothers, Geralt _and_ Lambert. If you need to tell him to make sure he's safe I understand but . . . I know you think Geralt has changed, that we don't know him like we used to but . . . I know Geralt, and I know not all of him has changed. Lambert was right, you didn't see him with Kolgrim, he would have killed him."  
"But didn't."  
"But couldn't, Ves-"  
"You must not know Geralt at all, can't isn't a word he understands, it's simply beyond him."  
"Just-"  
"Discretion and tact I know I've given you no reason to believe I have it and . . . true it's . . . sparce but I save it for just such occasions."  
"Just such occasions." Eskel muttered as he finally allowed himself to be led. "What occasions have you faced with Geralt?"  
"Only the worst and best, we're a trio of extremes we do nothing at half measure."  
"Well you've convinced me bard, but I like your words. Your next few audiences will be less eager ears." Eskel ran a reassuring hand down Jaksier's back.  
"I'm a performer who likes to be challenged!"

"Geralt! Anima! There you are!" Jaskier had cut them off at the top of the stair well.  
"Here we are." Anima did her best to nod, her chin was perched on a pile of books. "Snows too heavy I will never get to see these mountains I'm beging to doubt thy're actually-"  
"Jaskier what's wrong? Still feeling ill?" Geralt could hear how fast the bard's heart was beating and it was not from the light jog.  
"I've just . . . a bad feeling Geralt."  
"A bad feeling?" Geralt placed down the handful of books he had been carrying.  
"There a test coming up? Anima you won't be able to read those all be winter's end you're a slow-" That wasn't the best way to start off and he tried to regroup with some distracting banter.  
"A bad feeling about what Jaskier?" Geralt was studying Jaskier's face, he looked . . . conflicted.  
"I . . . remember the empath's vision? In Lyria? The one about you getting stabbed in your sleep?"  
"Don't worry about that." Geralt gave a dismissive snort, he didn't like how that image had staid in their minds. He didn't like being feared for, it made him uncomfortable. "Eskel what, did you let him out of your sight? His mind is wandering." Eskel again had let the bard pace ahead under a watchful gaze, it was a deliberate action, Labert wasn't the only one peering for cats around corners.  
"I'm not worried, just have a feeling." Jaskier pushed on.  
"What's the difference?"  
"Just . . . could you stay out of beds for a bit?"  
"Who do you think will stab him? What gave you this feeling?"  
 _'Damnit.'_ Just like on their way to Gulet, Anima was quick to spot the difference, quick to ask just the right question. "I can't answer that yet."  
"Can't?" Geralt was over this conversation, months ago when it started.  
"See told you he doesn't understand the word." Jaskier threw an elbow at Eskel.  
"There's something you're not allowed to tell me?" Geralt's annoyance was only rising. "Who told you not to? Was it Vesemir? He thinks he knows what's best-"  
"All you witchers think you know best. You find one maybe two people to confide in and you distrust the rest. You should talk to one another, trust one another. You're a family aren't you? Why not be open with one another?"  
"Jaskier?" Anima placed her books on the ground to raise a hand. "I love this soap box. I really do, I am behind you but . . . perhaps we could circle back to the stabbing?"  
"Right." Jaskier had let himself get a bit swept but he was preparing himself for a battle of philosophy with Vesemir. "Just keep him awake for a few hours? I'll explain everything I promise." He wasn't asking for the world just for Geralt to stay out of bed he normally had no problem staying busy instead of sleeping.  
"Can you promise that what you're not telling me won't get you or Anima hurt? . . . Again." Geralt was sifting, really and thoroughly listening to Jaskier's words.  
"If we handle it correctly. Which we will. Just trust me Geralt. I need to talk Vesemir out of knowing best but I need you to trust me." It was a very poliet request, from one friend to another. It went against Geralt's protective nature, his distate of being left in the dark. On the other hand, he had trusted Anima, let her fight her way despite him wanting to shield her and they were better for it. The bard deserved the same, he had always been in their corner, he always championed them even against themselves when the need arose. He was asking for something he had long since earned.  
"I trust you." Geralt picked up his pile of books.  
"That sounded like it hurt." Jaskier chuckled.  
"Don't make me regret it Jaskier." It sounded less like a warning more like a worry. "Eskel if you-"  
"I won't let him out of my sight Geralt."  
"Anima one of these books is on astronomy isn't it?" Geralt was trying to distract himself from the worry, trying not to associate the feeling of trust with that of dread.  
"Er . . . this one!" Anima filtered through her pile.  
"It'll be easier to understand if you've got a point of reference. Come on." They'd go back to the high lookout post.  
"Goodluck Jaskier. Your words can squeeze water from stones!" Anima smiled as she followed behind a still visibly grumpy Geralt.

"We're not going to look at stars are we?"  
"No." Had it been that obvious? They had barely made it up the next stairwell. His face must've voiced that question because she was quick to answer.  
"Snowing so hard a witcher could barely see their arm infront of their face?" It had been the reason the mountain had been delayed, again. "So not stars and not your eyes, you want the high ground in case something happens?"  
"I trust Jaskier." Geralt thought he was being scolded.  
"That's all he's asking. Not for you to stop being you, not to . . . give up vigilance. Just trust others to do their part. You can trust AND worry." She leaned her head against his shoulder. Geralt adjusted his books into one palm, wrapping his free arm around Anima's waist, pulling her closer to his side.  
"So you won't gripe when I ask you to sit low and to a wall?"  
"Only half as much as I should." She smirked and received a confused scowl in concern.  
"Anima you really are difficult sometimes. If you understand my-"  
"Because I worry too Geralt. You're not untouchable and yet you won't be low and to the wall will you? You're not hiding you're hunting."  
"Hmm. Trust and worry then." He kissed the top of her head.

Vesemir didn't look angry or disappointed, he looked tired, almost sad. "Well first thing's first. We need to let Letho out. He was the only level minded witcher among us didn't let emotions cloud him."  
"Then what?" Lambert was on edge, Jaskier had explained it all, from the beginning, with more grandure and poetry and far less curses but Vesemir did not look swayed.  
"Either they've been laying in wait, which . . . it's been too long for that, or it's taking them this long to get here now that the path has snowed over. Or they simply will wait till spring. If they were fool hardy enough to try they likely are worse for wear and scattered. We still have the upper hand we have the keep. We will have to find them before they ambush us." Vesemir doubted the cats were strong or smart enough to lay an real siege, they would have to either pick off witchers leaving the gates or try to sneak one or two over the walls. The threat was easily dealt with, but it was still a threat. "No one leaves alone. In morning if they are out there we will send them back."  
"What about Lidrie?" Lambert looked for once not angry, maybe a bit sullen.  
"She cannot stay. She's a threat-"  
"How is she any different than Letho, it's the same crime yet you sheltered him?" This was the real fight Jaskier knew had been coming the admission had just been frame work. He knew the cats would be dealt with, sooner, later, it was secondary. What would the wolves do now?  
"She's different in a very key way bard. She is not a witcher."  
"And aren't witcher's supposed to protect-"  
"Not when they're the threat!"  
"She was made such a threat by the dismissive treatment of your infallible witchers. The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth." Vesemir wasn't the only one who could pull sayings from his boot laces.  
"I agree the cats are the worst representation of our ilk but she made choices all her own, not all the blame can be tossed to the fact no one patted her on the back enough." Vesemir found no joy in this but he had to keep his boys safe at all costs. His boys who had grown all sorts of soft for humans maybe this was the firm, nearly cruel lesson they needed to make sure never to let their guard down.  
"She did make choices some bad some-"  
"She nearly blew off Kolgrims arm. Poisoned you and Anima and let Letho take the blame. She wished the keep to turn in and consume itself have I missed anything?"  
"She admitted she was wrong." Jaskier didn't shout didn't taut some anecdote about moral high roads just spoke. "Well admitted that maybe she wasn't entirely right."  
"And how do we know she wasn't just worried she'd be outed? She could still be in alignment with those seeking Geralt's head."  
"She could. I am not saying ignore what she's done. She isn't trustworthy sure but . . . Vesemir how many times have you been poisoned over the years? By man or beast?"  
"That has nothing to do with-"  
"And how many times has someone who wished you harm changed their mind? I'm sure it's happened, most of Geralt's acquaintances were once foes but that makes the bond all the more important. I'm not asking to overlook the bad Lidrie has done, like I said lock her up like you had with Letho. I'm saying Lambert convinced her not to hate the wolves, that you are decent people. I believe that, Lambert and Eskel believe that. Don't overlook that either, she is not all hate, don't have her die regretting that choice."  
"And what of Geralt? He wished to kill Kolgrim for little more than a tresspass against Anima. The girl could have taken everything from him yourself included. Do you think he cares she's had a change of heart?"  
"If he says so, will you let her stay?"  
"She would not be welcomed back Lambert." But it was a backhanded concession Vesemir was confident Geralt cared too much for Anima and Jaskier to allow their would be killer to stay within the same walls.  
"I . . . fine." Lambert just didn't want her dead was that too much to ask? He didn't argue because there was no need but also because he was confused, he was of a similar mindset of Vesemir.  
"Grand lets go!" Jaskier was confident, one down and one to go but what the witchers truly failed to understand was that while the wolves might be a family, Geralt had a separate one all his own. A family that worked together, Anima had been doing more than looking at stars he was sure of it, she was mid stride as always.

All of them, they nearly tumbled over each other to get to him and Anima, it was frustrating, he was frustrated. "If you don't all stop looking at me like that I'll stab myself and fall into bed." He could see each one of them staring at him like he a had a foot in the grave or a dagger in hand.  
"That's not funny Geralt." This was a scold, it was soft and pinched from Anima's throat, but that hit her in all the wrong ways.  
"It's not meant to get a laugh it's meant for them to stop-"  
"We know who is likely to want you stabbed." Jaskier blurted. Ok now the bard was a bit concerned, he had hoped Anima had kept Geralt in a slightly better mood.  
"Yeah Lidrie and or whatever witcher she fucked before Lambert." Geralt wasn't usually this crude but he had a short temper at the moment.  
"How'd you know?" Lambert felt ever more the fool by being so blindsided by this.  
"Jaskier complains often but rarely gets bad feelings out of nowhere and short of you growing sick of me there aren't many suspects roaming free. I've been avoiding her just fine for weeks and there's nothing sentient within miles of here . . .how far did you look?"  
"Oh." Jaskier now had a hunch what had Geralt so riled. "Anima you know you shouldn't reach too far Geralt can barely stand it when your reach across a field." She had searched past where a witchers senses would allow, farther than she should have.  
"Our definitions of too far vary." Anima shrugged.  
"You almost passed out that's too far." Geralt could still see the slight wobble in her stance but that wasn't it, what had him bothered. He was unfortunately getting used to Anima pushing her comfort's edges.  
"So . . . Lidrie also was the one behind . . . the bomb going off . . . and the posion. She was jealous that . . . well the cats aren't as accepting of even the humans they do associate with." Jaskier saw Geralt's face darken his nose scruntch in anger. Had he been wrong? Had his confidence been foolish? Maybe Geralt did hold onto that us versus them witcher mentailty that held the other wolves.  
"We . . . figured." It fought past Geralt's lips, he seemed angrier still but Jaskier wasn't sure what was causing the rise.  
"Wait you knew and didn't tell us?" Lambert's jaw was nearly on the floor.  
"We figured, we didn't know. If I came to you and told you I had a hunch Lidrie wanted Jaskier and I dead you would have scoffed and said good riddance." Anima tried to sound light hearted but it wasn't fooling anyone.  
"Fine." Lambert couldn't deny that sounded like something he'd say. "But you should have told someone."  
"Witchers like certain, we were waiting till we were certain . . . perhaps that was the wrong choice." Anima nodded, being mid stride, knowing peoples wants and needs, it was useful but it also lead her to preconceived judgements, led her not to try when maybe she should have.  
"Now that we are certain . . . What do we do with Lidrie?" Jaskier asked, what could have been done was obsolete what they would do was all that mattered.  
"Well you'll be letting Letho and Kolgrim out, plenty of room for Lidrie to stretch her legs." Geralt wasn't exactly known for his enthusiasm but these words had absolutely no life to them. When his answer was met with silence Geralt snapped. "What?"  
"No nothing you're right." Jaskier nodded as relief flooded him. "Just after the whole Kolgrim thing, we were worried you'd be opposed to Lidrie. . . staying."  
"If she can get to you through stone and steel I . . . I wouldn't let that happen." Geralt shook his head.  
"You want Kolgrim let out?" Eskel had found every part of Geralt's answer out of character.  
"What I want and what is . . . fair are not always the same." Geralt's fists were clenched. "I . . . overreacted." He didn't believe himself. "He didn't do . . . Anima wasn't really hurt." He was a man of his word but these words didn't feel right. The witcher in him compared Lidrie and Kolgrim's actions and there was no contest Lidrie was the bigger threat. The man in him though, didn't see it that way. "I'd . . . he should still stay away." There was a difference that he couldn't shake and it had nothing to do with witchers and humans. It had ate at him for days and now he knew exactly what it was. Lidrie wished Anima Jaskier harm because she was resentful of what they had. Kolgrim was under the impression Anima wasn't someone who had something he wanted, she _was_ a thing, something he wanted. He wasn't the first to look at her that way. Honestly most people who contracted Geralt looked at _him_ that way, but he could keep them safe from those people, they could leave if need be. This was his home no one should have the right to look at her that way in his home, he shouldn't allow it. He was torn but a sound pulled him from his conflict. Anima's teeth were chattering. He unclenched a fist resting his palm against her nose. "You're freezing." He couldn't tear out Kolgrim's eyes, he couldn't let his rage consume him, cage others, but he also shouldn't let what he couldn't do blind him to what he could. "You're not wearing a coat."  
"Neither are you." She noted but as his arm came around her bushling her in warmth, she noted the argument wasn't exactly valid. "It's in our room. Hadn't intended for a twilight stroll to the perch." She was nuzzling deep and a bit playfuly in a his chest, trying desperately to get warm but more than that trying to warm the scowl off Geralt's face.  
"Are we allowed inside or is freezing to death fine so long as I don't bloody any sheets?" She could hear it, the change, from blisteringly angry at something he was holding tight to his chest, to vocally annoyed, it wasn't ideal but it was better.  
"Geralt don't be dramatic. That's my job." Jaskier added to the ease, the tension was incrementally leaving the air.  
"We should go inside, You did just get over that cold and if you or Anima catch a cough, I'll be sitting right next to Lidrie." And Eskel said her name deliberately. To afirm yes, they'd made a choice not to throw Lidrie in the elements. No she wouldn't die and the cell if they were being honest, wasn't that bad.  
"Fine." Lambert moved from the door to allow the group to walk inside. It wasn't a thank you, part of him thought it should be. That he should thank Geralt for having a measure of mercy and understanding, but he didn't want to thank anyone for mercy and Geralt didn't want to be merciful, and that . . . was fine.  
"Geralt?" Vesemir had an almost baffled tone to his voice, had he been outwitted by this group of boys and bothers? "Are these choices yours or hers? I understand-"  
"You understand nearly everything Vesemir, clearly." And Geralt wasn't exactly smiling, still concerned by Anima's shiver but his tone was closer to that of a man who at least remembered how to smile. "My words are my own but I . . . there are others I consider before speaking them. They are . . . they have merit Vesemir."  
"To you." Vesemir seemed to be appraising Anima and Jaskier, searching with eyes that have seen it all for this aforementioned merit.  
"To . . . us." It wasn't a large bombastic action but Eskel did not stand by an obseve, he did not remain neutral, he spoke for himself.  
"The kit . . . " Lambert started but saw a spooky warning gaze from Jaskier as if this all could be undone, his help robbed from the Witcher who bitterly still needed it. "They sure know how to cause chaos . . . makes things interesting I'll give them that." It wasn't praise but he had previously labled them useless, bringers of chaos was a noticeable upgrade.  
"And what do they deserve? For all this merit Geralt?" Vesemir was not sure what they were looking for, what they wanted from him. Lidrie wouldn't die, he already admitted Anima wasn't the worst partner Geralt could have picked and Jaskier had somehow flown under the ire of the elder witcher despite running pantless from corner to corner. He'd been as hospitiable host as he could be hadn't he?  
"To be allowed inside Vesemir." Geralt almost chuckled. "I won't let her freeze. I promised her I'd take her up the mountain-"  
"No!" And Anima pulled out of Geralt's warm hold and the calm she'd been feeding him was stolen straight from his lungs. He looked at her confused. "It's been over . . . over a month G. . . Geralt. Those mountains don't . . . mountains don't fucking exist!" She sounded insane and the stutter the cold cause her words was not helping. She shoved past the wall of witchers, within the stone keep.  
"Are you calling Geralt a liar?" And there was something in Vesemir's voice, something indistinct and abnormal, it gave Anima pause. To bow or to bite? She had to stand on the backfoot, this was not a moment to be mid stride.  
"Not a liar." She paused again, this was a moment she wouldn't get back. "Just willing to promise what isn't there despite him wanting it to be. Geralt means what he says nearly always but-" This was hardly about rock formations anymore and they both knew it.  
"Do you not see the fucking mountains? Are you blind? Just cause your feet aren't under-" What it was and was not about wasn't as clear to everyone.  
"Quiet Lambert." Vesemir was solem for a moment and Anima was sure she had overstepped, misjudged. "You won't get to the peak, looking at maps, talking about trails. You have to hike." This was about being accepted, having Kaer Morhen be any type of home for anyone outside the witchers, for Geralt's two families to have any chance at merging.  
"We are willing to hike." Anima nodded.  
"Are you able?"  
"I . . . am uncertain." It was the taboo word she had been warned to avoid. "We'd like to try regardless."  
"Hmm." Vesemir didn't exactly seem swayed. "You keep saying we. Unable to hike on your own?"  
"Why would I want to? There's no view I'd like to see without Geralt and Jaskier if the option to do it with them is available. I'm sure there are places we can't see together . . . I'm not a witcher, nor am I a nobel, there are plenty of things that limit what we can share. So if I can do it with them I will . . . try, but trying to hike a mountain that isn't there-"  
"This is strictly a metaphor right? I will 'hike' but I don't actually want to hike. That's been your little night for the last four months I won't-" Jaskier started just as the analogy got too stale for the poet.  
"You boys were easier to keep out of trouble when you just came home and drank yourselves stupid. Simple fist fights, broken walls-" Vesemir sighed, he wanted just to keep them safe, home was supposed to be safe.  
"That I can do!" Jaskier shouted. "We can do! Right? Anima? Geralt?" Jaskier spun on his heels, Geralt had been quiet for some time.  
"We can." The witcher sounded . . . apologetic. "I'm getting you warm first Anima." And he followed the path Anima had took. Reaching her he wrapped his arms around her back again, frowning slightly when she didn't resume her nuzzling. "Please." It sounded more like a sorry, breathed warm into the side of her neck. Vesemir would always look at the remaining witchers as children he needed to protect, not as adults that knew what was uniquely best for them.  
"Don't be so glum Geralt you know I enjoy a good time in a bad place. Do they have stout here? I'm sure that will warm me thoroughly." Anima smiled up at him, trying to express that she didn't feel he had failed her. It was just like Lyria, the home hadn't changed, they had and that was alright. It was still a place to find happiness and rest among loved ones.  
"There are . . ." He let out a frustrated sigh, at least in Lyria they were accepted, but not here, this was just . . . a tolerance. "Yes. You can drink as much of those vile drinks as you can-"  
"Geralt do you remember the series of caves, west past the lake?" Vesemir spoke, that indistinct tone was back, was heavier.  
"Huh? Sure Ves I remember it, does it need to be cleared out?" He didn't hate the old wolf for not wanting to change. What witcher did? What Witcher should? He knew Vesemir was keeping Anima and Jaskier at arms length because that's what was logical but Geralt as much as he worried, also hoped, and this time he had just let his hope get away from him. "Come on we'll drink like-"  
"It does and you will, once it's cleared out it does lead to a trail up the range, one not too steep for . . . anyone." He shrugged, he was trying, the old man really was trying.  
"Well not tomorrow he won't." Anima shook her head. The men all looked baffled, maybe the metaphor had gotten too muddled or maybe she really refused to get her hopes up yet again but Vesemir was trying couldn't she see that? Why rebuff what they had been after?  
"Make up your fucking mind woman! Will you never be satisfied?!" Lambert's head was beginning to hurt.  
"She never is. She does this . . . often." Jaskier was used to being in Lambert's position, but this time he knew better, knew to give Anima a little bit of faith.  
"I was just promised stout you oaf. We were promised a night of heavy drinking and light thinking. Your boys Vesemir, have been through a lot recently, can't you just drink with us? Shove off chores for a day?" Anima knew change was hard on witchers, she wanted to show she had no intention of flushing out the old just to make room for the new.  
"Tomorrows are not gaurenteed Anima." Vesemir tried to hide behind stern words but she could see the small smile hiden underneath. "That's a reason to never push things off . . . but it is also a reason to drink to the day."

They did, drink heavily, stupidly, long into the morning. It was Lambert that was first to call the breaking dawn a night. "Hey!" Eskel shouted a bit louder than intended. "Your room's upstairs idiot."  
"I fucking know that!" Lambert wouldn't sleep in his room that night, or very many of the remaining nights. "What?!" Lambert was swaying on uneven feet waiting for the next word. "Fucking, what?"  
"Nothing." Eskel put his hands up in defense. Lambert instead would 'Make sure Lidrie didn't do anything else fucking stupid.' Perhaps showing up pickled the first night seemed a bit mocking of Lidrie's confines, but she called it fitting torture and if you squinted seemed to enjot his company.

Eskel and Jaskier were next. "Bard?" Geralt's eyes lulled in search of Jaskier and popped with surprise when he found him sitting at his right.  
"Witcher?"  
"Hear that?" Geralt's palm cupped a large hand round Jaskier's ear for assistance.  
"Hear wh . . ." It was Eskel talking or rather grumbling nonsense to himself.  
"You need to take him to bed fore . . . fore . . ." Vodka had stolen the witcher's train of thought.  
"Before you find him in the stables." Vesemir still had his words about him.  
"Stables?" Jaskier hiccuped.  
"Happens least once a winter. Eskel gets drunk, forgets where he is and goes to find deep intellectual conversation with his goat." Vesemir shook his head.  
"Lil bleater." Jaskier let out a snort of a laugh as he recalled the name.  
"Where?" Eskel's head shot up to attention.  
"Come on you lovely drunkard lets go!" Jaskier put Eskel's shoulder over his and went to guide him upstairs, it was not a single effort ordeal, on the first try Eskel's mass simply guided them both to the floor with a thud.  
"Lovely." Eskel gave a heavy laugh. He did not seem to mind laying out on the floor like upturned turtles. "Like the way you say it . . . lovely." He let long L's roll off his tongue for a moment. "Say it again?"  
"I will say whatever you want if you . . ." Jaskier was on his feet pulling at one of Eskel's heavy arms. "Work with me here." Eskel was pounds and pounds of dead weight. "Well . . . this is our home now."  
"Lovely." Eskel stated again.  
"Lovely indeed." Jaskier tried it, tussled Eskel's hair the way the witcher did his, he was rewarded with Eskel pulling him back down to the floor, laying a very non neutral kiss against his lips.  
"Geralt help your friend." Vesemir actually chuckled.  
"They seem . . . happy." Geralt shrugged.  
"Help them upstairs before they get too happy Geralt." Vesemir and Anima sat and watched, for a painstaking ten minutes as the three men kept losing footing leaning their weight on each other only for there to be no sturdy balance among them. They finally disappeared through the door.  
"That stairwell is tricky they'll be alright . . . right?" Anima peered up from her mug to Vesemir.  
"Drunk as they may be Geralt and Eskel do still have the reflexes of . . ." A shrill cry from Jaskier put a stop to Vesemir's words. "I'll just keep an eye to make sure." And Vesemir seemed genuinely happy, not that Jaskier could be dangling to his death but that he was still needed, his boys while a bit more grown up were still boys.

Anima laid out on the bench, stairing up the ceiling. _'Really? Why does a room have to be so . . . tall.'_ Her eyes were getting heavy, she felt toasty and just wonderfly comofortable.  
"Fuck!" She heard Geralt shout from up a decent set of stairs and the startle in his shout bolted her eyes open. "Anima?!" She didn't hear footsteps proper but by the way his shout echoed she could tell he was moving.  
"Yes?" He didn't answer and that concerned her. "Geralt?!" Maybe the vision had been slightly off. She didn't know the sound of a Witcher getting stabbed, it wouldn't surprise her if Geralt was simply to curse and charge, no cry of pain. "Geralt?!" She ran, tripping and stumbling half way to the staircase but quickly rose and ran again.  
"Anima?! I'm coming I'm . . ." He met her at the base, pulling her with force to his chest.  
"Gods shut . . . the fuck up! The both of you" Lambert could be heard from bellow.  
"Anima." Geralt's hand was in her hair, combing through it as if to calm his drunken jitters. Her face pulled back, which took some effort Geralt's hold was firm. Looking up she could see dread slowly disappear. That wasn't right, he shouldn't have been so alarmed. "I . . . It's not safe . . . being alone." He pulled her back, his shoulders turning in as if he were bracing for something.  
 _'Oh.'_ And it began to make sense but at the same time it didn't. "They're hardly the same." Anima put her hand to his face running a thumb along a tight jaw.  
"What?" They were both too drunk to leave words unsaid.  
"What I worry will happen to you and what you worry will happen to me."  
"It's not . . . too different." Geralt kissed the top of her head, taking in a large breath of her.  
"I think you might be stabbed Geralt. You think . . . What do you think will happen?"  
"I . . ." His mind went to some truly dark places. "If I get stabbed I'll . . . walk it off." And while Anima still found no humor in the thought of Geralt bleeding in bed, his unchecked ego did have enough color to it to make her scoff. "I've seen what people do . . . to others they don't view as . . . people. He thinks you a . . . trinket, a cursed . . . object. He wants to take you from me." Inebriation led his hold to lean towards lung crushing. "He won't . . . care. He might break you to get what he wants." It was less that he viewed that trivial kiss as a threat to their relationship, he wasn't that self conscious. It was the fear that if Kolgrim got her alone, he'd take, pillage what he needed with no consideration of Anima. "You don't see it." He knew Anima had interactions with men who broke before, honestly that was half the problem, she was blind too it, she was numb to it, didn't cause her concern. "I . . . you . . ." And he let out a grumble as his brow knit, the words he was looking for weren't coming. He couldn't allow it, even if she could walk it off like a blade to the gut. Half his ego, half his heart, he couldn't allow her to be broken if he still had arms and legs about him. "I need to keep you safe. Let me-"  
"I should talk to him." That response was far from what he wanted.  
"N-" He stopped himself, he was being possesive, he let go of his death grip. "You still think you can help him." He didn't view her as weak, and she was by nature and by mutation an excellent judge of character, he had to trust her. "Not alone." There was a question to his words. He had to trust but not carelessly.  
"I'll bring Eskel." Anima was not naive, she didn't view Kolgrim as no threat at all.  
"Eskel." Geralt seemed to ponder the notion. "I'd prefer if I came along." It wasn't a demand, but it wasn't a concession either.  
"I'd prefer if you came along too but . . . that'd be unfair to either of you. He can't be vulnerable in the face of someone who wants him dead and you can't be asked not to worry."  
"Worry." Again he pondered, he had let worry fester into something dark and dangerous. These weeks had been the perfect breading ground for his temper to flare. "I should do something about your worry. I should talk to Lidrie. Cats may want my head but it'd be good to know whose fronting the bill." That would be an issue to investigate come spring.  
"Not alone?" Anima smiled up at him, this was fair, balanced, worry for worry, discomfort for discomfort.  
"Lambert will be there." Geralt nodded.  
"I'd say have fun but-"  
"There are mountains."  
"Huh?"  
"I wasn't lying . . . there are mountains, real mountains . . . the snow there is-"  
"If not this winter maybe the next." That phrase disoriented Geralt, it was hopeful, it spoke of after but it was a hope with connotations, she was taking off the expectation because he wasn't a man of his word, not this winter.  
"Put a stake on it. I work better with stakes." He didn't want to go dark again, he spun the bruise to something better, something he liked, a challenge.  
"Doesn't seem fair."  
"Huh?"  
"The mountains are something I want to see-"  
"I said I'd-"  
"If you get me there within the week you can have something you'd like. Anything spring to mind?"  
"You know nothing has." His forehead met hers with a bit of a clunk.  
"Sleep on it?"  
"Am I allowed in the bed or are we going to sleep on the table out of superstition?"  
"It's your bed. You can sleep on it. Don't worry I'll protect you."  
"Hmm." He was drunk, he was drained, he was tired, but as he let his hands fall down to the back of her calves he lifted her, their faces still evenly set against one another. "Ours." He grumbled out as somewhat stammering steps took them upstairs.  
"Huh?" Her eyes were clenched shut as she let out a nervous chuckle. They had worried for nothing, he wouldn't be stabbed she would have her blood pulled from her, this was how they died, drunkenly sauntering up stairs.  
"Our bed. You have a place here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had started this story with a semi clear plot in mind but my opinions on characters changed as I wrote them . . . so bear with me as I tweak this near the finish line.


	12. Cards on the table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to ask the right questions.

"And I thought you had forgotten I was even still here. Looking for Kolgrim?" Letho's eyes showed little shock or interest that Anima and Eskel had found their way to his room.  
"No I'm here to talk to you . . . well first, before I speak to Kolgrim. I'm sorry we haven't included you much we-"  
"Your watch dogs locked me up for a crime I didn't commit, you'll agree it's a bit past ignoring." Letho reminded her.  
"I know and I'm sorry for that . . . I'm not sure exactly how we can make that up to you but-"  
"Go back to forgetting I'm here. Unlike the rest I'm here for the roof not for comradery. Especially not with you." Letho's words were slow and with such little inflection even Anima seer of all wants and needs was unsure if Letho really did want nothing and no one.  
"Because I'm not a witcher?" Maybe some questions would atleast get a beat on any underlying tone or tell.  
"Doesn't help." He shrugged. "You're Geralt's, tangling with you means tangling with him and I like my limbs where they are. If I upset you, without a word or want he'd be sicked on me and-"  
"He's not an attack dog." Anima tried not to sound riled but her shoulders rose, her lips pursed, and this got a little scoff out of Letho.  
"Tell that to Kolgrim."  
"You've warned him to stay away from me. Why is he so hell bent on . . . does he really want to feel so bad? Is that really all it is?"  
"All it is." Letho seemed just the tiniest bit moved by those words. He finally took a small step towards her but stopped when he saw Eskel put a hand on Anima's shoulder. "See how you have all the cur's under your thumb? Feeling is something . . . Some witchers want that more than anything . . . to feel anything." He seemed to pause, as if he was going to say more but was warning himself against it.  
"I want to help Kolgrim. How he's acting will get himself killed, maybe not here, not by Geralt but eventually." Anima could see Letho considering her statement, weighing it's likelihood of being true.  
"Help him by staying away."  
"We've tried that. You've tried. He's not exactly taking no for an answer . . . you're trying to keep him out of trouble I've seen it. You care just enough." He had, the only words he'd spoken all winter seemed to be warning and threatening Kolgrim to be as leary of Anima as he was.  
"He's . . . the wolves aren't the only school with dwindling numbers." Letho paused and considered again. "Kolgrim is young . . . stupid." And again, giving any ground seemed to pull at every muscle and moral of Letho's. "He has seen-"  
"The way I look at Geralt." Anima let out an over it sort of sigh.  
"How close you allow yourself to get to the wolves, all of them, teeth and all. Most people fear us . . . and they should." There was a distinct roll to Letho's large shoulders and Eskel's hold on Anima's grew just a measure more. "So you can say be yourself and you'll find someone who gives a shit all you like. Kolgrim's young and stupid but he's not blind to the world. Freaks like you with nothing to lose don't fall from trees. He wants what's the wolf's and what he'll do to get it . . . No wonder your attack dog is concerned. You. Should be concerned." Letho warned. "Talking sense to a man starving, with no scraps to spare is cruel and pointless."  
"I can't love him but . . . if it's feelings he wants. Closeness to a degree . . . I can do that." Anima didn't want to give up.  
"Anima, you can't fix everyone." Eskel had watched her win over the wolves one by one but he saw what she didn't, what ate at Geralt, the wolves took emotions from her in moderation, Kolgrim seemed to want all or nothing. "Listen to Letho." The viper hadn't judged wrong yet.  
"I said I'd speak to him and I will. You don't have to come with me Eskel." Witchers were used to being feared, brushed aside, looked at as barely caged beasts, she hadn't seen them that way, she wouldn't now.

"You know that I do. I like my limbs too." Eskel gave a concerned groan as he watched her storm away. "I think I know what your problem is." He stated as they went on a hunt for Kolgrim, he could have found the viper if she asked, but she hadn't and he wasn't exactly in a rush.  
"Solve me Eskel. Geralt will be so jealous!" She was so light, so confident it was as if Kaer Morhen hadn't warned her, as if Letho's words had washed right over her. That was not admirable, it was foolish.  
"You've never met a witcher you couldn't conquer." At this Anima stopped, turned and looked at him as if his words were absolute sacrilege, because they were.  
"Is that what you all think of me? A conqueror? No wonder I leave you so sour." She sounded angry and Eskel desperately wanted the heat to leave her voice. "Do you think I've conquered Geralt? Do you feel conquered Eskel? Because if so you're wrong. Witchers are not ones to be conquered. The only conqouerable witcher is a dead witcher. Even then-"  
"I didn't mean it like that. Not in a bad way." Eskel was in more than one way missing having Jaskier by his side.  
"In the good way you conquer someone." Anima was back to calm but by now even Eskel knew that could mean anything.  
"Maybe that was the wrong word but you do . . . disarm them . . . us . . . use our own minds . . ." He was going to say against them but he figured that would go over as well as conquering. "Like in the training, know our motions before we move . . . know where to aim. Kolgrim said once how you . . . decoded Geralt. Maybe that's it. With us it's helped, you've been . . . patient." Every couple of words he would look to see any crack in the calm but it didn't come.  
 _'Gods witchers really do have a thing for patience.'_ She waited for him to continue. "Like Letho said Kolgrim's starved for it . . . not sure why but he is . . . and he doesn't have the patience for you to be patient. Like the training . . . he's going to strike . . . fast. . . and I'm worried for-"  
"Don't worry." Anima smiled. "I'm just going to talk with him. What could go so wrong in talking that-"  
"Plenty." Perhaps Anima had forgotten the pesimism that seemed to flow freely between the witchers.  
"Well if something goes wrong I'll figure something out."  
"You mean I'll figure something out?" Eskel knew if Kolgrim struck the burden of reaction would be on his shoulders.  
"I'm sturdier than Geralt sometimes lets other's believe. I can take care of myself. I might not have met a witcher I couldn't disarm but I know well of men who have a problem with the word no . . . not all of them can be disarmed or conquered but trust that I don't have my guard down as low as you may think." It was the calm, that's what gave the witchers the worry she wasn't taking this seriously, but the calm was the very proof of just how serious she was.

"Honestly I thought you'd be angrier." Lidrie had made quite the home of her little cell, there were blankets and pillows, too many candles to not be a fire hazard.  
"Don't test him Lidrie and don't let his face fool you he's still plenty angry." The human couldn't see it, to the eye Geralt seemed just as calm and neutral as ever but Lambert could see the twitching of muscles forcing themselves lax, this was an illusion of calm. Geralt had been through a lot, his patience was past tested it was tapped. If there hadn't been so much blood these series of events would seem nearly comical. Being home, being surrounded by people he cared about, it was all that balmed the ever pressent bristle and knowing Anima was in search of Kolgrim put him in even a fouler mood.  
"The contract. Who ordered it?" He didn't want to talk to Lidrie, he wanted to clear out the cave, or let Roach stretch her legs, lounge in bed with Anima, listen to Jaskier go on about his last trist at crippled kate's, anything else really.  
"Which one?" Lidrie smirked, loving the fact that she still could shock and awe.  
"Which one? For fuck's sake Geralt even attempts on your life you have to go above and fucking beyond?" Lambert chuckled almost a bit impressed.  
"Only one asked for him dead."  
"Someone wants me alive? Who?" This was a development he hadn't seen coming.  
"Color me old fucking fashioned shouldn't you be more concerned with who wants you dead?"  
"Lambert I step in a well lit room people want me dead. It's not often someone would pay to see me alive." Geralt retorted.  
"Fair."  
"Vereena" Lidrie just hated being left out.  
"Vereena?" Geralt remembered her.  
"Old flame?" Lambert went with the logical assumption.  
"No." To be more specific Geralt remembered beheading Vereena, so unless it was a simple coincidence this development was growing more layered by the minute.  
"Forthcoming as always." Lambert snorted. "He might not be interested but I'll ask. Who wants him dead Lidrie?"  
"We didn't get a name. Or even where to bring the wolf's head." That statement came out far more casually than it had any right to. "A shifty sorcerer . . . even Schrödinger definetly didn't trust him and Schrödinger never is definite about anything."  
"Great. A woman you . . . know?"  
"You could say that." Geralt nodded.  
"I can say . . . And a sorcerer with no name or address. Anything else?" Lambert was more annoyed by the vaugeness of it all than anything.  
"Do you know why? Dead or alive. Why they wanted me?" There were a lot of things that separated Geralt from other witchers one of the lesser noted on traits was his interest in the why of things.  
"Vereena seemed to want to kill you herself or I don't know keep you as a concubine. She was obsessed with you." Lidrie remembered how hungry the vampire had been for the white wolf. "The sorcerer just . . . he was less interested, had no requirements or deadlines, just dead and out of the way."  
"Out of the way of what? Think Lidrie this is important." Geralt finally had some inflection to his tone.  
"Out of the way of . . . He said you were both after the same thing . . . for different reasons. He would win regardless because he had nothing to lose. But you would make things . . . bloody. What was he after . . ." Lidrie really was thinking, craning her ears to hear a months gone conversation.  
"Did he say anything about glass?" Geralt had a sinking feeling.  
"Maybe? I don't remember . . . He said something about Cintra. Does that help?"  
"Unfortunately." Geralt let out a weighty breath, the time he could allow himself to ignore the visions and nightmares was growing short, too many things were repeating in terrible ways.  
"Care to elaborate?" But Lambert didn't push. "Of course not." He stated a bit quieter at the dark almost gloomy look in Geralt's face.  
"Lidrie just one more question."  
"Yes?" All the girl had ever wanted was for her words to be respected and acknowledged by witchers, the fact it came in the form of interrogation seemed to phase her not in the slightest.  
"Jaskier said you knew the poison you gave them wouldn't kill them. Then why do it? Why hurt them just to hurt them?" He'd never understand it, as many times as he witnessed it up close and personal. Anguish just for the sake of it.  
"I don't know. I hurt . . . why shouldn't they. They had won, had everything and I had nothing. Still I didn't want to give them anymore hight over me. If they died the pedestal you hold them on would only rise, even as a specter I don't think I could stomach that."  
"Hmm." It wasn't a good answer, but it at least it was one. A man interested in the why of things had asked this before and normally the answers were because they could, or for the thrill of it. "Lambert." Geralt didn't gesture just dragged the other wolf to the corner.  
"Fuck! What?!"  
"Do not mention Cintra to . . . anyone." Geralt's stare was hard and determined.  
"What's happening in Cintra?"  
"It's what I won't allow to start in Cintra." Was this Termeria all over again? Omitting something from Anima that she could shed light on? Possibly but the risk vervus reward to it lead Geralt to repeat the mistake. He would protect her, even from herself.  
"I won't but she figures things fast Geralt. If she figures it out before you tell her you'll be in a world of hurt."  
"I'll be in a world of hurt regardless." Geralt ground his teeth and stewed for a moment over what was fact and what was fever. Eventually he left to look for the one who was worth said world of hurt.

"Anima?" Kolgrim looked up from his meal genuinely surprised to see her. "You didn't bring Geralt with you." He was doubly surprised.  
"You're welcome." Eskel played the role well, because he played it often, he was contracted to be a body gaurd fairly frequently. Maybe that's what had given him an interest in a world outside the wilds. Jaskier had asked him to actually acompany him to a wedding later in the year, he'd never been invited anywhere. Only paid to stand and scowl from corners. He was a bit lost in thought before he noticed how closely Anima had sat near Kolgrim, he held a stoic stare on the viper.  
"I'd apologize if I thought he wouldn't kill me on sight." Kolgrim's eyes were still wanting and wide, glued to Anima, but maybe the death threat had gave him some caution as well.  
"Aplogize for what?" Anima was all about the right questions, and this was an important one.  
"I bit you, drew blood." Eskel was circling at a slow pace at the mention of blood.  
"That's not what you should apologize for, what's . . . concerning us." Anima paused, and Eskel watched the process begin, she started at Kolgrim as if he was a lock to be picked. "You know that I love Geralt right?"  
"I do."  
"How could he not." Eskel leaned against the far wall, patience was admirable but it also took time, they'd be here a while.  
"And I've explained . . . _to you_ . . . that I can't love another not the same way. I can't love you because I only love Geralt. That makes sense right?"  
"You were a whore." She had peeled back another layer, Kolgrim wasn't just lonely, he was bitter and angry. Those blunt words got a jostled cough out of Eskel, but he didn't interject, Anima was still clearly in control  
"I was . . . I'm not now. Even if I was . . . I was paid before someone kissed me, and just like they warn you, it cost extra. No one was allowed to just reach out and take. Don't twist that into thinking I've got a price tag, take it as I always aim to, and have my entire adult life done so to be on the deciding side of what I will and will not do. You took that from me. The bite . . . who gives a shit about that." Sure there were stories, cautioning tales about the teeth and jaws of witchers. Geralt himself had quite a penchant for a hearty bite, Anima was not dismissing the punch they packed but she could handel, and more often than not appreciate a good bite. That was such an arbitrary thing that everyone seemed to be getting stuck on. "But we're clear? What was wrong before? And what I still am unable to offer?" There was a long silence as Kolgrim seemed to accept that he could not eclipse Geralt in Anima's eyes.  
"Yes." And that word was hollow, had no authenticity to it. Anima let out a sigh, maybe everyone was right, maybe Kolgrim was someone she couldn't safely reach.  
"Kolgrim give me your hands." It was a protective geasture as much as it was an offering one, she wanted his hands where she could see them. He quickly took the opportunity, his hold had an enthusiastic squeeze to them. "I hate dwelling on what I can't do. Lets move onto what I can do. You're dead set on feeling more."  
"I don't feel at all." Kolgrim nodded.  
"That's not true. You feel . . . even the dead feel, witchers are no exception. Name something you enjoy doing."  
"Witchers don't-"  
"Bull. Witchers have likes, dislikes . . . you lot aren't scarecrows with swords. Lambert fishes every once in a while, Eskel's enters horse races. Have you seen Vesemir's library? It's not all curses and creatures there's straight drivel just for the joy of it in there. What is something you enjoy? Think." She very purposefully did not mention Geralt.  
"I . . . play gwent from time to time." He shrugged apatheticly.  
"Grand! Jaskier has a deck, I'll be right back!" Anima was not deterred.  
"That's it?"  
"You Witchers are quick to be underwhelmed, yes that's it. The easiest way to be happy is to do things that you enjoy. Just like most of what you do is rolling up your sleeves and doing a job right, most of what I do is . . . patience, being attentive." She saw another witcher staple roll across Kolgrim's face, unconvinced. "If nothing short of magic will appease you I can just as simply leave you be Kolgrim. I'm not a crystal ball. I'll gladly play gwent and enjoy your company. But that's where we stand. What will it be?"  
"Fine." Something was better than nothing he assumed.

It took time, just as Eskel knew it would, about eight games worth of time till they finally spoke again, causing the wolf who had closed his eyes out of boredom to come back to attention. He wasn't a body gaurd he was a baby sitter.  
"I never get rematches." Kolgrim was finally smiling, just a bit. "Always ends in a fist fight."  
"At least you get to play. Jaskier is convinced I'd cheat, without even knowing. Which I suppose is possible but . . . I'm not cheating now!" She hurried to add.  
"No now you're losing." And he laughed, he seemed for a brief moment, less than just destroyed by the world.

"There you are." And there _he_ was, Geralt, there was a visible shift in his body language as his eyes drifted to Kolgrim but it came and went. "Eskel wake up!" He gave a bit of a shout and Eskel launched from his corner.  
"Huh? Ani- oh Geralt you're here. Good then I'm no longer needed."  
"Go take a nap Eskel." Anima could feel the fatigue pooling off the poor man. He hadn't been getting much sleep lately, Jaskier was quite the night owl and Eskel's internal clock didn't lend for much sleeping in, which left the wolf a bit weary.  
"I'm going to clear out the caves with Lambert I-"  
"He offered to help?" Anima was busy scowling at cards.  
"It involves blowing shit up. Of course he demanded to go." Geralt felt a bit ignored by the fact that she hadn't looked up but not terribly bothered. That was something he could easily fix. He took her chin in his hand and turned it towards him, it wasn't a hungry or aggressive kiss, almost leaning closer towards a greeting but it seemed to upset Kolgrim as if it was an outward taunt.  
"He doesn't have to ask." Kolgrim's knuckles grew white as cards folded in his grasp.  
"What?" Geralt pulled back, that statement did very much bother. He was trying, it didn't seem it outwardly but he was trying to be understanding of Kolgrim's feelings, of the viper's misinterpretation of his and Anima's relationship. Still there was only so much try before simply knowing everything the one witcher did would do nothing but stoke ire in the other.  
"Kolgrim you can't-" Anima placed her cards down at the table, this was going to blow up she could feel it.  
"I ask constantly Kolgrim." For her, he knew trying was pointless but he kept at it, remained even for Anima's sake who seemed still convinced Kolgrim had ears to listen. Geralt's hand went to the top of Anima's thigh running along it at a soothing pace. To reasure her he was on her side, to reasure himself Kolgrim was mistaken. He wasn't a brute who grabbed, he was always asking to be as soft or strong as Anima needed. Maybe not in words but he asked Anima silently with every gesture to keep him.  
"When? I see you pull on her, fist full of hair just drag her-"  
"Kolgrim stop. It's not like that and you know it. You're not a child you know how couples-"  
"I'm not a fucking child." Though the way he washed the table of their cards with both hands didn't exactly help that case. "I'm done playing." And with that he stormed off.

"I'm . . . Sorry." It felt odd passing Geralt's lips, he shouldn't be sorry for kissing his partner in his home but maybe he was sorry for not asking? For not reading the room better? Undoing any small ground Anima had managed to gain. It's not that he couldn't help himself it was just sometimes he forgot that comfortable wasn't a welcome state for a witcher, it only brought chaos. She was just that, comfortable, he thought less when around her, just did what came naturally, felt comfortable and it was nearly always the right thing to do. This had been an exception that proved the rule.  
"I just wanted to help. He's so angry at the world. I just thought if I spent some time with him . . . That he just felt left out and I could . . ."  
"Witchers don't mind being left out, when it comes to most things we prefer it. What Kolgrim wants . . . He can't have." He placed a palm to the back of her neck. Trying to get her to understand, Kolgrim didn't want something from her, he wanted her. "Dangling it infront of him isn't helping. You said it yourself, you can see easily if someone's hungry but you don't know if it's for pidegon or pie. You can tell he's lonely and angry . . . but he's got it in his head you're the fix for that. Not even you can convince him otherwise."  
"Fine, no need to warn me again." Anima was picking cards off the floor. "I'll leave it alone." She had failed in giving someone what they needed, she felt entirely askew.  
"We could use help." He could see the crisis brewing under the surface.  
"Oh I wouldn't want to ruin Lambert's explosions with my . . . presence." Anima's smile was blank and out of place.  
"Hmm. Lambert annoyed is more tolerable than not. I'm not going to let you mope around the keep because you feel you failed just once at what you do." He hated repeating mistakes and he saw this the beginings of when he thought he had failed to see the future and save her from the dogs. "Plus I put the effort into teaching you how to use that cleaver. We'll grab it from Ves and try it out in the cave. Nekkers are a bit more your speed than a witcher. Give it a go?" His hand was back at the base of her neck, fingers tapping a bit nervously at her spine. He left out the fact that after hearing Cintra mentioned again it'd ease his mind slightly to keep her near for a while.  
"Alright." She nodded leaned in and kissed at his chest. _'Don't dwell on what you can't do. Focus on what you can.'_

The Nekkers were easier, the moves were more fluid. Vesemir had added a proper guard and pommel to her cleaver, which blade itself had been stretched to it's metal's limits, from the pommel hung a small chain and a little hunk of silver that Geralt recognized to be a rejected medallion. The foglets were still a bit too fast and elusive for the very much not combat experienced empath, better left to the witchers but she could defend herself in the most basic of ways and that was a decent improvement. Clearing the cave took most of the remainder of the day. The chore left them pleasantly fatigued, just spent wonderfully. Geralt let a lazy smirk rest on his face as he felt Anima's cheek lean against his back, it gave him some returned patience. As Roach cantered through the snow, the feel of Anima nuzzling closer renewed some of the calm that had been stripped of him. "Day started rough but this was . . ."  
"I think I'm getting the hang of this place." And that brought back hope, that she believed him, that he was a man of his word and when he had said there was a place for her here, he meant it.

How did he let this happen? That question kept tumbling over and over through his head, he could barely hear Kolgrim's words. It had been such a quick succession of actions, in the dead of night. As he stated time and time again, no one was fast enough to get the drop on him, even in his sleep, that's why Kolgrim had to slow him down. Geralt had woken to his medallion vibrating, his eyes opened to a crackling purple circle of magic. _'Yerden?'_ The trap wouldn't hold him but it did make motions delayed. Geralt chose first to push Anima out of bed, getting her out of the way.  
"Oof, Geralt what's-" Anima grumbled as she slowly stood, just in time to see it. Kolgrim had stabbed Geralt right in the back. She watched as pain and anger clenched within Geralt's teeth.  
"Run!" He barked, reaching behind him to take Kolgrim's hair in a fist, keeping the viper close. Unfortunetly Geralt wasn't the only witcher that held Anima's attention.  
"I'm telling you." Kolgrim's voice was dark and deadly. "Not asking." And the blade dug in deeper. "Do not try anything. I want you to attach to me."  
"Anima go get-" Kolgrim's elbow slammed into Geralt's temple.  
"You lied you can feel however you want, make others feel as you want. I want to feel-"  
"Hand me the dagger Kolgrim. Don't hurt him anymore."  
"You don't decide-" Further into Geralt's muscle and organs.  
"I can't do anything if I'm distracted by seeing Geralt in pain. I'm scared and my ability takes some concentration." She was not above playing a damsel in over her head if it bought her any leeway. Kolgrim knew he was on borrowed time, the scent of blood, the sound of commotion was bound to wake a witcher any moment. He placed a dimeritium shackle round the wrist to the hand Geralt had in his hair.  
"Give me your other hand." Kolgrim glared down at the white wolf.  
"No." That was a death kneel Geralt could not allow. The blade retracted, taking all Geralt's breath with it, finding a new place at his throat.  
"Now Anima." The blade pressed hard. "You can make me feel like you love me . . . even if you don't right?"  
"Anima trust me, I'm-" Geralt could get them out of this he just needed a minute.  
"Ok Kolgrim. I will. Then what? What's your big plan?" Anima was still speaking, still stalling, catching Geralt's eyes. She trusted him, knew they only needed a minute or so more. For the yerden to completely disapate, an opening for Geralt to grab his blades from across the room.  
"Now." And blood was cresting over the blade.  
"Calm down." When something was needed, even something abstract like time, something had to be given. "You can feel it right? You're calming down."  
 _'Damnit.'_ She hadn't any better choice than to attach to Kolgrim but the distinct pull in her face from the drop to her heart rate, it made the blood seeping from him pump faster and angrier. It had gotten it's desired effect, the blade left Geralt's throat as Kolgrim calmed under Anima's command.  
"Don't try anything Geralt." Kolgrim had freed the white wolf but the balance of power was still on the viper's side. Geralt had whipped himself out of Kolgrim's hold but as Geralt turned to face the witcher, to strike at him, he saw it and knew his own hands might as well have been shackled behind him back. Kolgrim had the dagger still dripping with Geralt's blood at his own throat.  
 _'Fuck.'_ Anima was still holding Kolgrim's heartbeat, he could see it, hear it, he could practically feel it. He could get to his swords, kill Kolgrim, but was Anima faster than Kolgrim, could she separate from him faster than he could plunge the dagger into his throat? It'd be a race very much to the finish.  
"What is the . . ." Anima took in a big sweeping breath, trying to get adjusted to the lack of oxygen getting to her slow moving blood. "Plan Kolgrim? You surely have some idea of how you want this to end?" Gods what was taking everyone so long? _'Big keep, big walls tall ceilings. . . plenty of old blood.'_ The fortress held the witchers but also cloaked them within their history.  
"You'll come with me. We'll leave . . .I've already packed. We can go wherever you want, it's not a prison sentence. We can go see the mount-"  
"No." Geralt had a bit of a croak to his voice, he could feel blood coating the back of his mouth.  
"You have no say." Even with the white wolf injured Kolgrim's voice wasn't as confident and commanding as it should have been.  
"If you take her out of this room." Geralt had to pause to clear his throat. "I will follow you. Immediately. I will kill you. Brutally." Teeth stained red only made Geralt look all the more menacing.  
"I'm having her remain attached to me."  
"Doesn't matter." Geralt's eyes were darker than Anima had seen them before, he was somewhere different, somewhere she couldn't reach out and touch. "If I can't have her no one will. Simple as that." Geralt spat some blood he'd been pooling in his mouth to the base of the door, he measured it'd finally be enough to catch someone's attention.  
"You'd kill her before losing her?" Kolgrim had to decide the merit of Geralt's threat and fast.  
"You have no idea what I'd do and that's half the problem. Now if you want to live Kolgrim. . . You do want to live don't you?"  
"I . . . do." Anima's forcefed calm was still holding in Kolgrim.  
"Geralt?!" That was Eskel's voice, sleeping beauty was coming to their rescue.  
"Geralt?!" Jaskier was practically barreling to their door.  
"What is it going to be Kolgrim?" Geralt walked over to his swords.  
"Anima will stay attached to me until you get me clear over the mountains." Calm did well to not shed blood, but it also helped plans form.  
"She can't hold a witcher that long. Her heart will give out." His ears were trained on it the slow pumping pulse turning Anima pale.  
"Someone is leaving this room with me. Who is it?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> think part of the reason I'm having such a hard time with this story (outside just too many secondary characters) Is I know by the next one I'll have to pull the trigger on the Nehalenia plot I've been weaving and forever now. Writing these falling in love parts had been kind of a distraction from . . . you know the world and I'm nervous and a bit sad to move forward. Thanks for hanging with me.


	13. plans and pulses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With hands figurtively and litteraly tied all one can do is go mad.

"Up the mountain makes no sense, I've been trying for weeks Kolgrim and-"  
"And I could bring you there." He was smiling, he was absolutely mad.  
"Right." Anima wanted to sit down, she felt lightheaded, but adrenalin and the sight of Geralt's blood was keeping her standing. "But then what? One side is Kaer Morhen the other's the . . . " She was getting used to it, the slow thump to her pulse it stopped being agony and now was just an all consuming ache. "Sea. I don't like the ocean. It'd be better . . . faster to go down the path. Plenty of options from there." They'd be easier to track by the wolves if they were tunneled one direction. "You and I will go down-"  
"I'll won't allow him to take you anywhere Anima. You're staying here." And what fresh hell was this? If it was an act, a strategy as Anima assumed it was it made no sense, but by the gods it looked convincing. Geralt looked as if he'd lob both Kolgrim and Anima's head clear off in one strike if she made a step for the door. If Anima went with Kolgrim that removed Geralt from the equation, it'd be a simple stand off and it was Anima's power holding them there, she'd have the upper hand. Having Geralt be Kolgrim's hostage gave him extra leverage.  
 _'He doesn't trust me not to die? It would take a few hours for there to be enough distance for the wolves to get an ambush on Kolgrim. I'd just have to keep him tethered and-'_  
"The fuck is going on?" Jaskier had opened the door to absolute mayhem. Geralt was bleeding from his throat and his back, one hand cuffed, the other with an almost casual hold on his sword. Anima was pale, deathly pale, Jaskier wasn't sure who she had in her hold but it was draining her at an alarming rate. And Kolgrim was in their bedroom, dager at his own throat. "Geralt what is going . . . Eskel?!" The bard needed back up for this level of peril and absurdity.  
"What's . . . Geralt?" Eskel pushed past the bard and the ever observant, ever even witcher was just as confused as Jaskier. This was . . . dumb, Geralt should have just punched Kolgrim, make him drop the blade, that was if he wanted the other witcher to live. Eskel stepped to make short work of it but was stopped.  
"Don't do anything." Geralt warned. No one saw it, no one sensed it quite like he did. The Yerden had long since faded but his medalion still shook, which meant it was in response to Anima. He had spent a year posted up beside her and when she used her ability his medallion would occasionally twitch or rattle, never like this, something was different and that . . . concerned him, she was just as unstable as Kolgrim. He would take not a single chance here. His scowl could do more than most, he'd play the monster to make sure everyone kept their distance, no sudden movements.  
"Is it a spell or a-"  
"Take this off of me." Geralt held his wrist out to Kolgrim. "I'll take you down the damn mountain alright?" For being the one bloody, Geralt seemed to be calling a lot of the shots.  
"You're not the one I want." Kolgrim somehow tettered from suicidal sociopath and a brat who was only after dessert.  
"But you don't want to die do you?" Geralt grimaced the last word out. He would live, he'd had worse . . . but a stabbing is still very much a stabbing and Kolgrim had nicked something, witchers don't waste motions. "And if you take her out of this room, you will die."  
"Jaskier go wake the others." Eskel had no fucking clue what was going on but it was serious, Geralt was serious, this room could be bloodier.  
"I can't leave them . . . I . . . Kolgrim I am no threat. Just let me sew Geralt up a bit? Please?" Jaskier moved slowly, under glares from both a wolf and a Viper.  
"We're leaving." Geralt shook his head, the quicker Anima let go of Kolgrim the safer they'd all be.  
"No." Anima could glare just as ghostly. "You might have me by the neck Kolgrim but that street goes both ways. I won't have Geralt bleed out in the snow. Jaskier my bag's in the closet." The bard's back hugged the wall as he entered the room. Death threats were easy to come by and Jaskier wanted to avoid one of his own if he could.  
"Geralt . . . Anima . . . Someone start explaining?" Eskel was still utterly confused, what exactly was he watching.  
"Anima if you let go I'll kill him, he won't fight back because I'll know before he does. He wouldn't risk hurting you." Kolgrim's plan was coming to light. "He'll take me down the mountain and there we'll wait. I can't bring you now but . . . the wolves will trade you for him no matter who you are to Geralt, you're still not worth the life of the white wolf, they'll protect their own. They don't have time to delebrate on it. Her heart will give out over time isn't that what you said?"  
"I also said I'd kill you Kolgrim." Not all of what Kolgrim said was based in facts, enough was and enough wasn't, Geralt and Anima if they wanted to live would have to be mid stride. Geralt jolted at the feel of a needle piercing through flesh.  
"Sorry." The tremor is Jaskier's nimble fingers didn't help.  
"Be fast not sorry bard." Geralt could be on Roach by now, every minute was another ten beats of Anima's irregular pulse, her hold on Kolgrim, the swelling magic that only he seemed to be noticing.  
"He also said he wouldn't let anyone else have me . . . so how does this end? Us all on the end of Geralt's sword." If that wasn't the right question Anima didn't know what was.  
"Finally you get interesting." That had never happened before. Anima had never heard the voice of the void without lingering where the world went white. Was her barrier between the physical and emotional relm graying out? She didn't have time for this, not now. She had to keep Geralt and her alive as Kolgrim was quick to remind.  
"That's up to you. Anima you may not know all but you know what witchers want. You already know how this will end don't you?" Kolgrim's mad smile was stretching wide, growing sad around it's edges. "Don't you?" He was calm because she held him there, but his thoughts were anything but, they were grave.  
"Knowing what someone wants and giving it to them . . . shouldn't be mutaly exclusive." Anima's kept her eyes glued on Geralt, whose face was tilted up to the ceiling as Jaskier wiped blood away from the wound. "Geralt?"  
"I know. We're going." Geralt pushed Jaskier's hand away, they had to leave, now.  
"It's easy Anima to give people what they want. I want to feel loved, and you're going to-"  
"Give the braty child his death wish." There was the voice again, and again Anima shook her head, she still didn't have time for that.  
"And I want to do that Kolgrim. Make you feel, loved and safe and secure-" Anima's voice was soft yet dark as she took a step towards Kolgrim, his face was losing some of it's maddness as the desired emotions washed over him.  
"Anima stop." Geralt stood in between the two.  
"I'm not scared Geralt." Her voice had a little shake that spoke to the opposite, but he believed her, knew what that meant.  
"Do you remember the first time we met?" His hand held at the back of her neck. Despite his mouth still being crimson with blood, despite Anima pooling the feeling of love into another Geralt pulled her face towards his, the kiss wasn't tender or soft, there was love there but it was a halting kiss more than anything, to keep her from walking away from him. "Kolgrim's after what I was . . . do you remember?" He had a plan, a simple plan he just needed Anima to fear death again and hop on board with it. Nothing would happen, they wouldn't move an inch, till he was sure, till he saw it return to her face, the fear of death.  
"Yes Geralt I do remember what you were after I-" Smaller than it should have been, that fear returned. Anima overcharged and blood starved would not do something rash, she didn't want to leave Geralt with the inability to rest.  
"What is going on here?" Vesemir had joined the late night hysteria.  
 _'Fuck.'_ Only in Kaer Morhen could there be such a thing as too many witchers, there went his plan. "We've got it handled Vesemir." Geralt was holding onto the back of Anima's neck for dear life, he didn't want to let her out of his sight but minute after slow moving minute was passing.  
"This is covered?"  
"Anima is not to leave this room. No matter what. If you use her to barter I'll . . . Lets go Kolgrim." Geralt almost had an arrogance about him liked he dared the world to defy him in this moment.  
"You can't stay." The voice was back at it, between her head and her heart Anima was fully out of sorts.  
"You always get what you want Geralt. Not this time. Vesemir you have to choose between Geralt and Anima. I'm not bringing you with me just to out maneuver me at the gate. Give me your other hand." This had been something Geralt had viewed as a death kneel, something less preferable to a blade actively at his throat. He looked down at his palm and then over to Anima, there was something wrong with her eyes, something he couldn't quite place let alone trust with Kolgrim.  
"Fine." The face he made was ugly and angry as he let Kolgrim take his other hand. It was a face that spoke of scheming ways to kill someone without use of a single finger.

\- Hour one-  
"Anima you made Kolgrim run from you before can't you just do that again?" Jaskier was wiping Geralt's blood off his hands.  
"Mhm." Anima nodded, the adrelin was wearing off and the farther Kolgrim walked the more strain the hold was. "Can." She sat down on the bed. "Will." She nodded again.  
"Like hell you will." Vesemir would restore order if it was the last thing he did.  
"Don't worry Geralt won't be hurt." Anima gave a bit of a shooing motion, assuming that was the witcher's concern.  
"If Kolgrim gets that blade through his throat before you let go are you saying Geralt will shrug it off?"  
"He's a mighty good shrugger. . . broad shoulders." Anima chuckled, adrelin had petered into nervous energy. "What's your plan? Trade me? That's just the same end with more cardio." Anima didn't have a preference one over the other but she failed to see the distinction.  
"We're not pandering to the lunatic either. How long can you hold him?"  
"I held Geralt for about what six hours Jaskier? I was a bit out of it at the time . . . bruxa bite and all." She had made Kolgrim calm, she was flooded to excess with it.  
"Something like that . . . oh we need . . . Lambert. where's Lambert? that uh . . . bomb ingredient the healer used to keep your blood pumping."  
"By now . . . maybe . . . ten twelve hours? Forever when you really think about it." Her head was . . . floaty, maybe that's why she was hearing the void.  
"I'm asking for eight We can count on it?" Vesemir wanted concrete confirmation.  
"Mhm." Anima laid out on the bed. "You got a whole half a day Vesemir . . . spare a minute to tell me what you're going to do?"  
"I'll bring in an hour glass. In eight hours exactly, let go. Come on Eskel." And the witchers were gone.  
"Damint he was right." Anima closed her eyes, no use expending energy where it wasn't needed.  
"Huh? Who? Anima keep your eyes open."  
"I'm tired Jaskier . . . this is tiring."  
"Yes that's what I'm worried about."  
"It's been under an hour Jaskier I'm not dying just . . . tired. . . trying to focus."  
"I know but . . ."  
"Fine . . . how do they look?"  
"How does what look? Full sentences Anima . . . When you held Geralt you were . . ."  
"My eyes Jaskier. How do my eyes look?" In Geralt's absence it seemed Jaskier would take on the mantle of all the world's worry.  
"White . . . weird . . . I'm sorry poetry escapes me in the moment."  
"I don't need poetry. My pupils can you still see them?"  
"Yes . . . why?"  
"No reason."  
"Oh just shooting the breeze? What kind of idiot do you take me for?"  
"An idiot that would cut me some slack because I have sludge running through my veins?" Anima bit down on her lip as her limbs started to pin needle and burn.  
"I . . . Is there something I can do to help?"  
"You want to take Kolgrim's pulse?" She chuckled.  
"You . . ."  
"It was a joke. . . sorry I'm just . . . I haven't had to reach like this without Geralt . . . I . . . It's not pleasant."  
"Right." Jaskier wanted to do something, anything, he felt useless.  
"Don't go quiet on me? I don't want to feel alone." Anima had very much gotten used to Geralt's warm hmms and heavy holds. Just his sheer closeness, that promised he wouldn't leave her, that anchored her, kept the cold of the void away. While Jaskier's words would never compare, they did help. And as her anchor, more importantly the man she loved was being taken from her, injured and bound she needed all the help she could get to not lose control.

-Hour three-

"Does it always feel like this? Is this how you feel all the time?" Never had a man with a death wish and a blade to his own throat looked so pleased with life.  
"No. . . . sometimes it feels like this." Sometimes it felt like hands cliped behind your back and a punctured organ, a spleen if Geralt had to put money on it. Jaskier had sewn his skin but the wound was still there, still leaking blood and bile into places it shouldn't be, his skin itched, he wasn't sweating but he felt the hint of chills running through him.  
"But it's worth it. This is worth dying for."  
"So you know you're going to die?" Geralt was a bit taken a back. Kolgrim knew, was fully aware his plan was full of holes, that the wolves were likely just at a distance, would get a good angel and disarm Kolgrim, and once he didn't have Anima as a shield, someone, likely the white wolf himself would kill him hands or no hands.  
"I don't blame you. I'd want it all to myself too. I'd kill to keep it. It's worth it."  
"Hmm." Geralt ran fingers along Jaskier's stitches. _'Worth dying for? Worth killing for?'_ He remembered the last winter he had been in Kaer Morhen, it had been easier, less angry, less bloody, just relaxing and drinking and healing. This winter had been stress bookmarked by meals and a comfortable bed. The years before Anima there were no tricky layered emotions to sift through just simple ones he kept maintained and in check. No balancing of man and witcher, soft and strong. No nightmares and prophesies to keep at bay. It had been the path, what he had trained his whole life for, what he was good at. Everything before Anima was simple, straight forward, winnable. Geralt liked succeeding, being best. A relationship with an empath, he was not built best for that. A woman who was doomed by omens to die, protecting her wasn't feasibly a winnable feet. Why would something that went so much against him, disrupted so much of his normal be worth anything let alone everything? But it was, that was a fact, and Geralt liked facts even more than he liked succeeding. He could lose and still be satisfied if he knew why he lost. One step closer to wining the next time. He had won Anima's affection one fact at a time, worked tirelessly, bled for it, changed for it. Because while her love wasn't what made Geralt it was worth all that was. His mind went to her laying at his chest, just having her want be near, seeing her when he woke, she didn't see him as a butcher, a witcher, maybe not even a man she just saw who he was beneath all his damage. It was an even exchange, Anima felt the same way, he could hear it everytime she said his name, how much he meant to her, how much she loved him. To her he was worth killing and dying for. She had worked, bled and changed for him. Yet right now Kolgrim was reeping the fruits of their labor because he was crafty enough with a dagger. "I wasn't asleep." Talking agitated the cut to his throat but Geralt was beaming at this realization, he had to tell someone.  
"Huh?"  
"When you stabbed me I was awake. Anima never touched the blade."  
"Are you going into shock? You're not going to die from a pin prick are you?" Kolgrim pouted like a child again, Geralt was only of use to him alive.  
"What? No. This proves what I've been saying."  
"What's that?"  
"Visions and destiny are nothing but coincidences wrapped in bullshit!" Geralt almost laughed, he was still stabbed and Anima still held the heart beat of a witcher but there some small part of this day that was going their way. "The empath's the sooth sayer's . . . Anima's nightmares . . . all bunk. I can keep Anima alive" He was a man of facts but he was leaning very heavy into believing a theory because it suited him better. It was a decision he'd regret but not today.  
"Who wants Anima dead?"  
"Other than you?" Joy soured when Geralt plummeted back down to reality.  
"I don't want her dead. You just wouldn't allow her around me-"  
"That's what you're doing. What you've been doing. I didn't want her not to attatch to you because I'm an asshole. I didn't want her to because it will kill her. **I** nearly killed her when she attached to me. It's been three hours? She's probably numb from the neck down by now. But you never cared what it would do to her, you're as cruel as those that made these mutations in the first place. Results at all costs at any loss." Geralt's voice rose, his throat burned as he out right growled at the viper.  
"I . . . just wanted to feel, I've tried on my own. Once she attached to me I was . . . "  
"You were what?!"  
"I loved her I felt like I was meant to have her."  
"That wasn't love. You . . . felt visable. Felt like someone saw you." Geralt equated it to when he first got to know Anima, that hadn't been love either, it had been a punch to the gut, it had been something worth miles of travel and moments of valor it had been something he grew fond of but it hadn't been love. "You don't know anything about her. What about her do you love other than she sees you exist outside the path?"  
"I . . . she tries even when it's stupid to. She lets me win at gwent."  
"Hmm." Geralt was still glaring, still snarling and still worrying. Anima was somewhere trying something stupid he was sure of it.  
"I don't want to take it from you. I won't let her die. I just . . . let her hold me till the wolves catch up?"  
"You ask that like I have a choice." Geralt glared at the dagger still prone at Kolgrim's throat. "I wouldn't have her suffer a second longer than needed. Not for you not for me not for anyone." He was waiting, watching for an opening, he didn't want to take a chance and hurt Anima but Kolgrim was crazy if he thought Geralt was allowing anything, he was, as always hunting.

\- Hour four-  
"Alright do it!" Jaskier clenched his eyes shut and braced.  
"Do what?" Anima groaned at the prospect of doing much of anything. "I'm doing my best to keep breathing and blinking." She could do without the later but Jaskier had asked her to keep her eyes open so she had made that a task.  
"And those blinks are growing slow. I can't let you die Geralt will kill me. I'll take Kolgrim's pulse." She had done something similar in Temeria, spread her pulse among a group of nekkers to extend her reach out to humans far and away from her and in a way beyond Jaskier's understanding that had eased the strain on Anima.  
"It's wrecking me . . .this fucking-" She rode a hiss of pain. She liked listening to Geralt's heartbeat, nuzzling up close to it and letting it calm her. Having a similar paced heart beat was absolute torture, her blood slowly lurching it's way through her body, made every function feel like hell. How did the witchers bear this? Thrive like this? "It would kill a human Jaskier. I appreciate the effort though."  
"Well . . ." Jaskier gave her another potion to thin and heat her blood, tapping his fingers nervously as the vial drained. "What about two humans?" Jaskier had either a bright or dim idea, he himself wasn't yet sure.  
"Huh?"  
"Lidrie wants to be a part of witcher life . . . can't get much closer than this."  
"Lidrie?" Even arching a brow ached like a deep bruise.  
"Y. . ." No better idea came. "Yes."  
"Lidrie who poisoned us?"  
"An apology and an act of good faith. . . couldn't please the gods any better."  
"The gods."  
"You go from interesting to an invalid. Do something." There was still that slight bother, the voice in her head that shouldn't be.  
"Right I know Geralt and you aren't on the best of terms with gods and dieties but we're pickled from every angel if you have some potion or ability you've held for such a moment I'm open for any and all-"  
"Fine . . . fine. I give up I give in. Bring Lidrie . . . and Letho if he's still here."  
"Letho? He's a witcher."  
"I am aware."  
"A viper."  
"Also aware. I don't intend to attatch to him. If you and Lidrie are giving me back some of my energy. I intend to do something with it. To do much of anything we'll need to pass the wolves and they've got a head start . . . and Eskel's riding prowess to boot. I need someone who can race down the mountain. Who better than the person who cares most what happens after my conection to Kolgrim breaks."  
"We're not going to beat the wolves down their own mountain Anima. The point of me and Lidrie taking some of the strain was to . . . lessen the strain ." Neither she nor Geralt knew how to rest properly. When all this was over the bard would have to show them.  
"Not if we travel like they do. But we can travel a way they won't."  
"You know how to form portals now?"  
"No! but the wolves are traveling calcultively, cautiously . . . lucky for us slowly. Last thing they aim to do is spook Kolgrim, risk putting Geralt or I in danger. We don't go in like witchers just the opposite, with reckless abandon and a brazen charge because we know best. Just saying it makes me almost feel human again." Anima was planning something thuroughly stupid that she had no right doing, with people she had no right trusting. It was a loveable trait that would get her killed one day, just not today.

-Hour Six-  
"What do they think they are doing?" Vesemir caught the back wind first, he almost didn't believe that they would ignore everything the witchers had said, almost. All his concerns galloped right past him. Two horses, one with a miserable looking witcher at the reigns and a pale but concious Anima sat behind them. "I do have a plan!" They were vering off the path, headed for a steeper decline, one that was dense with flaura and fauna both with teeth and talons to spare.  
"Is she out of her mind?" If Lambert was surprised by the first sight the second horse simply broke his brain.  
"Ahhhhh!" Jaskier had his arms tight around Lidrie's waist, she was fast, fluid and agile the only thing slowing her down was the bard's shouting bothering the mare.  
"Shut up!"  
"For fucks sake slow down!" There was a reason Jaskier rarely moaned that Geralt made him walk and never offered room on Roach's sadle. "I don't trust horses, devils, hoves teeth and all!" Roach was mild mannered enough but as a blanket assessment Jaskier did not trust the temperament of horses and knew he was bound to get bucked or bit one of these days. "And frankly I don't trust you! You'll-" And it broke off into another shout as Lidrie simply picked up speed.  
"That was . . . something." Eskel had a lot to unpack from that blitz and more than anything else he just felt . . . concerned. "We should go after them."  
"You go after them Eskel. Try to keep them from killing themselves." Vesemir felt like that had somehow become the underlying theme of this whole winter. "Lambert and I will continue down the path." Vesemir's plan was not all too different than Geralt's it was a game of patience, they had to get close but not too close to be detected and then find a way to momentarily disarm Kolgrim. The viper was alive by the blade of a dagger and a thin hold of a heartbeat.

\- Hour seven-  
"Your lover's gaining on us and I'm half tempted to toss you to him if you don't stop squaking and squirming."  
"These drops and turns are none to kind to parts I find valuable Lidrie! I am doing my best, my chest aches, don't you . . ." He had another half reasonable idea. "Do it."  
"I will you whiny little-" The now group spread chest pains were leaving them all short.  
"Let me off this hell spawn!" Jaskier cleared up the confusion.  
"What?"  
"Anima's got her spooky magic. Geralt's got his strength, they're doing what they do best let me do-"  
"Fine get off." Lidrie had pulled the horse to a stop.  
"You don't even care what I intend to do?"  
"All I need to hear is that you don't intend to slow me down. Off." Lidrie outright shoved him and then peeled forward into the brush.  
"You know there's not a trophy at the bottom right?!" Jaskier wasn't exactly sure where Lidrie's zeel was coming from or for all he knew was that she was gone. Everyone was gone. "Except for the wolves, bears . . . wraiths . . . that wasn't a dragon it was a . . . forktail?" Jaskier began counting the beasts he was defenseless against on his fingers as he realized maybe this plan had been a bit short sighted. He didn't get as frazzled by the forest as Anima, oddities and peril did excite him sometimes despite his will to live but as moments pressed on he wondered how wise it was to have stationed himself off the path. "The path called the killer no less. What was my goal in the first . . . Eskel!" Now he remembered the base of his plan, to distract and or slow down the witchers.  
"Jaskier what are you doing? Where is everyone? You should have just staid put." Eskel didn't dismount but he did circle round the bard, he wouldn't just leave him.  
"Kolgrim's trying to force Geralt's hand. Force Geralt to kill him, he thinks he'll die loved or . . . happy or take them all down in a blaze of contempt. Geralt will . . . you said it yourself but he doesn't want to. Imagine what it'll do to him, any of you. Killing another witcher."  
"Get on the horse Jaskier." Eskel's words were soft and a bit somber. Eskel didn't have to imagine what killing another witcher would do to Geralt he'd seen it before. It had thrown the white wolf to extremes, fits of uncalled for rage and deep pits of reflection and if tears could have come, sorrow. Witchers had each other, and barely at that, to have to strike one down did take a toll, did leave deep and ugly scars that never healed right.  
"Anima has a plan she will make Kolgrim-" Jaskier sized up scorpion for a second, the horse seemed a bit more hot headed than Roach but no portals were readily available so the bard hopped up.  
"Whatever her plan is she didn't do that from the beginning because?" They didn't have time to debate.  
"She has to be faster than Kolgrim. Strike before he . . . goes for the juglular for lack of more complex words."  
"She's slower by the minute what gives her any speed now she didn't have before?" They were following the shoulder stretched path made by Letho.  
"There's a witcher potion she can take makes . . . I don't know . . . it heightens Anima's ability I've seen it. It might give her the edge, from a distance she wouldn't know when to try, up close-"  
"Might? If Anima dies right in front of Geralt's eyes he'll go as mad as Kolgrim. No death is a grand ideal but if it's one life or the other Geralt would agree-" Eskel did not like the rag tag happy ending plan.  
"Geralt does not see the appeal of lesser evils. I'm telling you he's . . . more complex than you witchers want to believe."  
"I . . .Know." Complex wasn't something witchers strove for, it was something they avoided. Simple was better, simple was strong and safe and . . . kept witchers sane. "Anima won't try if she's not sure will she?"  
"Anima wouldn't have gotten out of bed if she wasn't sure. She is confident this will work, that this will be what's best. She might be emotions embodied but just like you underestimate Geralt's complexity you also underestimate how frustratingly practical Anima is. They're as similar as they are contradictory."  
"This will make for some story eh? Lets not miss the ending. hold on I'll try to be a better ride along than Lidrie." Scorpion was off.  
"I haven't been disappointed with a ride yet." Jaskier's arms were swiftly around Eskel's waist, his face burried deep between the witcher's shoulder blades.

\--Hour eight--

It burned more sitting still than it had riding to the end of the path, or maybe Geralt just had no other points of focus outside of the wound. He'd simply have to bear the discomfort, simply try to label it as just that and not outright pain and try to block it out. Kolgrim's heartbeat was still holding at Anima's rythm, the hold hadn't begun to falter and until he noticed a change in pace he did not want to move Kolgrim nor Anima to act impulsively. So he closed his eyes and tried to meditate, tried to figure out his next move or rather how to get close enough to exceute it. He needed to disarm Kolgrim first, simple as that . . . hands behind his back and Kolgrim skittish as a fawn, getting within striking distance, even to attempt it with ard, less than simple.

The acidic burn eating at his core faded from his concentration, at first he took it as a sucesful drop into meditation but then he realized his senses were simply honing elsewhere. ' _Cracking tea leaves.'_ He knew that smell, but it was only half a signature, it was meerly draped over something far more _'Human. . . . Lidrie?'_  
"What have they sent you as some peace offering?" Kolgrim's temper flared and Geralt's eyes flew open in worry.  
"There's nothing peaceful about me." Lidrie had raced in triumphant, first down after the duo.  
 _'Why is she wearing Anima's clothes?'_ Kolgrim hadn't noticed such a thing but Geralt doubted Kolgrim had ever taken the time to really look at Anima let alone remember what her cloak looked like.  
"I said I'd trade the wolf for the empath not anything with tits and a smile."  
"Whose smiling? And who said anything about a trade? Haven't you heard I started this trip with the intention of killing the white wolf." Lidrie had a sword, who had trusted her with a sword? Clearly this what not a wolf born plan. Geralt grew tense as Lidrie drew near.  
"Is that why you're here? To kill him?" Kolgrim looked awkward, pulling his own sword with his nondominant hand, that damn dagger had yet to move. Two people fighting over who laid claim to the wolf's throat this was something Geralt was more used to.  
"I came because Anima said she actually was going to do something for a change and that I had to see to believe. It was a sure thing, even if she fails . . . well then I get to kill at least one witcher."  
 _'Good to know she's still passionate.'_ Geralt stood, he had all this pent up rage and hurt and just down and out bother. He could fight Lidrie off there was no tether to stop him. He would have, moved just for the sake of finally getting a move in but the words finally registered. _'Anima's going to do something? She gave Lidrie her clothes so . . .'_ And he picked it up the other half of her signature scent but instead of ease his worry, it grew. The smell of dried fruit that always clung closer to Anima's skin, draped in clothes that smelled of candle ash and was far too close to the smell of the other viper. Geralt began stalking the tree line. "Let her go Letho!" A sharp pain rolled through his gut but he didn't let that dim his snarl.  
"Fraid if I do that the poor thing will topple." Letho spoke slowly as the came out of the brush behind Kolgrim. Geralt couldn't tell how much of Letho's hold on Anima's collar was to keep her on her feet and how much of it was to guide her. Anima's eyes were completely gone, whited over entirely, no pupils to be found.

"You don't have to be diplomatic. You've out smarted them. You could kill him." The voice of the void, the voice Anima could no longer pretend was not Nehalenia was louder and closer than ever. Anima had downed the Stammelfold’s philtre moments prior, it still hung on her lips. Anima herself seemed to be hanging, on the edge of the her hold of the world.  
"Anima?" Geralt's voice called out to anchor her but she didn't hear it.  
"You could kill him." Nehalenia was louder.  
"Kolgrim?" Anima's voice wasn't as confident as it needed to be for this plan to work.  
"I could kill him for his disrespect. Hell any of them. Be the last one standing. You're owed respect." This god did know well when to pepper in compliments. "If you go blank for just a minute . . . let me show you what you're capable of."  
"I'm right here Anima. What . . . what are you doing?" Kolgrim was feeling it, the wild change in his already faster heartbeat.  
"Well are you going to take her or stand there like an idiot Kolgrim? You've gotten us kicked out of Kaer Morhen indefinitely. I'm done losing sleep on your behalf. I don't like you." Letho had no compliments to spare and wanted it to be clear this was the end of his good graces. He gave Anima a bit of shove. Kolgrim had to drop his sword to catch her, but he had what he wanted, he had Anima attached to him and in his arms, he could truly get lost in the fantasy of being loved for as long as that lasted.  
"I don't have to be pulled from you Anima. We can cohabitate. I can keep you and your pet witcher alive whicever one you want you can have, you can keep." Nehalenia was overpowering all.  
"Anima?" Geralt called out again, his medallion was humming, he could feel her sliding further and further out of control.  
"Yes?" She finally acknowledged him bit she hadn't said his name and that was telling as anything.  
"This is a trap." Kolgrim pressed the dagger into his throat and a familiar scent hit the air, blood with the distinct almost non odor of glass both the viper and empath bled.  
"Us or him Anima! Decide!"  
"I know what witchers want. Know how this will end remember?" Anima let out a frustrated sigh as she tried to quiet her mind.  
"I do." Kolgrim nodded.  
"Anima you need to let him go now!" Geralt was mid stride, charging full force he didn't even rightfully know who at. Kolgrim or Anima herself.  
"But did you ever think there was more than one possible ending? Dying and killing are easy outcomes. Living for an ending . . . do you know many pulses, how many emotions I'm juggling just to get the ending where everyone lives? Do you know how blind and confused I am Kolgrim?!" Anima's voice was climbing. "I'm at the edge of losing control, I'm hearing voices Kolgrim!" She was screaming as to drown out whatever Nehalenia was sure to retort with. "Geralt I love you dearly. You'll be alright.." And Kolgrim and Anima both crumpled to the floor.

Geralt's charge came to a halt. He fell to his knees, he held his breath listening for pulses. Kolgrim's was slow and Anima's was . . . erratic. "Geralt? Anima?" Eskel rode into the picture.  
"Eskel find the key and get me out of these. Now." Geralt's voice was cold and lifeless. "Anima?" She wasn't waking. "I'm here Anima." His throat stung terribly. "Do not do something stupid. Stay . . . please." He leaned his head down towards hers, trying anyway to get to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is a bit confusing but I'll get to a point I promise and get a bit less indulgent with my own lore and more back to the romance of it all.


	14. Late arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whose been the real threat all along?

' _Again?'_ No visions or memories, no tethers, not even the voice of the void, just white expansive nothing. It was something that she was tested with frequently in the manor, what broke a lot of empaths. While it did breed it's own slow creeping madness, Anima found it more frustrating than upseting. Geralt was out there, hell everyone was out there going mad over everything that brought them to this moment and here she was sitting in a vacant space, doing a whole lot of nothing. _'Kolgrim?'_ She couldn't tell if it had worked, her last concious thought was to push the feeling of fatiuge in him but she had no clue how effective that had been, she had no clue about much of anything. _'Tether's gone . . . so that's . . . something.'_  
"Anima?" That was Geralt's voice calling out to her but she couldn't place distance or direction.  
 _'Fuck.'_ He sounded worse than she had imagined, the worry was there, was always there, but he was in pain, he was hurt he was trying to bury it but she could hear it in his very breath. _'Jaskier didn't put anything to the wound, it could be doing some real damage.'_ She had potions in her bag. Wherever the hell that was, wherever she was, wherever Geralt was. _'Focus.'_ Letting panic leach in would not help. In the manor she had just waited out the white, she never had any sense of urgency there.  
"Do not do something stupid." If only Geralt knew, she wasn't doing anything stupid, she wasn't doing anything at all. Nehalenia would be so upset.

 _'Nehalenia?!'_ The diety had been chomping at the bit to get out, it wasn't possible she had been possessed had she? That's not how the stories went.  
"Stay . . . Please." Anima had to work to get free and fast. If Nehalenia somehow got to surface first it could be more even trouble for her companions and even the witchers must have a quota of trouble per day. _'Damnit . . . what was the trick? Imagine a room that makes you happy some cheezy bullshit like that? Picture a room, walk out the door.'_

Eskel had found the keys in Kolgrim's pocket, uncerimonisly tossing around the witcher's unconscious body to get to it. Geralt didn't even ring his chaffed wrists, grabbing Anima's face in his hands. "Anima? I can hear your heartbeat I know you're . . . you're not dead." He stammered it out to almost reassure himself. "Just . . . I'm here . . . you can sleep when we get back . . . just wake-"  
"I don't see it. The big deal about you witcher." Eyes fluttered open but this wasn't Anima, not her eyes, they had a shiny green undertone to it, not her voice, it didn't call him by name.  
"Anima?" Geralt knew this was Nehalenia but called past her, ignored this, hiding her face in his shoulder, shielding this development from the other witchers.  
"Geralt what's going on?" The sound of vibrating silver, medalions going nuts broke at the silence.  
"Anima you need to wake up." She still had her blood in her, so this was just a tease, this wasn't the full threat, Anima had to still be in there. "I can't take you up the mountain if you . . . leave me." This fucking mountain wasn't worth the hype at this point, but it was all he had to offer in the moment.  
"She will leave you witcher. I am a goddess what power do you have to stop me? I grow tired of this cage" There were fingers proding and scraping at his wound.  
"I have no power to stop you, but I will not . . . I promised not to leave Anima . . ." His teeth clenched in pain. All This Kolgrim and Lidrie nonsense had been just that, this was true danger.  
"Geralt step away . . . That's not your girl." Vesemir warned as the smell of new blood wafted through the air.  
"Everyone shut up!" Geralt had never been that outright combative with his mentor but he needed to fix this, needed to anchor Anima. He pulled her face harder to his chest, it was an uncomfortable hold, caused him to bend where he was quite literally torn, letting out a groan of pain as digits dug deeper.

"Anima."  
 _'I . . . hear you Geralt just give me a minute.'_ She was trying to think of a room that made her happy. Geralt's room had some too fresh, too distracting memories attached to it. Her room seemed . . . well her room never really was hers . . . it was a work place not a leisure den, it didn't have enough happy memories to it. Some Inns came to mind but their images didn't hold, were too indiscript.  
"I know you're not dead."  
 _'Well that's concerning.'_ Not thay she was alive but that it beared saying, that spoke to to the tone of events. She shut her eyes to try again. _'Just picture a fucking room Anima.'_ After some time a space began to form, she knew these walls, only one place had such abnormally tall ceilings, the main hall in Kaer Morhen. Sure she had been poisoned here but she had danced with Geralt here, she had laughed here, spent hours with Geralt, Jaskier, the wolves, just enjoying their company. There were tangible happy memories here. She stood and began making her way to the door.  
"Anima?" This was a twist, the door was to her right, but Geralt's voice was coming from the left, deeper into the keep.  
' _Picture a room and walk to the door it couldn't have been any simpler Anima.'_ She continued walking. She was pitting her training that she hadn't used against being beckoned towards the only person to really anchor her, the person who had earned all her trust, that she loved more than anything. It left a cautious feeling in her gut as she heard him again and again, farther away as she reached for the door.  
"I have no power to stop you, but I will not . . . I promised not to leave Anima." Her hand was on the door, it felt warm and clamy. Was she leaving? Was she in real flesh and blood terms walking away from him? He had gotten stabbed over her, had let his hands be bound behind his back which went against everything he'd ever trained in. Escorted a man who he had warned her to stay away from down the path because she hadn't listened. Her gut told her to turn, to head back towards Geralt. What had anything she learned in the manor done for her? It wasn't bunk, it was based on what ran through her but . . . she was more than that, different than that. Her connection to Geralt drove her more than any mutagen, meant more, he had let her love balance the man and witcher. She had to give his love the same creedence, let him balance the empath and woman in her. He was more than a standing set of swords, she was more than a walking surveyor of wants and needs. She heard him groan in pain, could faintly hear his heartbeat, he needed her to do something . . . anything, napping on this decision was helping nothing and no one.

"Geralt where's my bag? Have you seen it? I need-"  
"Anima?! Say it again." He pulled her face away from his chest, staring into her eyes that had lost their greenish luminosity. Anima chuckled for a moment, no need for an empath to know what he wanted her to say. He was not much for redundancy, or mishearing. There was only ever two things he asked to hear repeated: Lecherous moans, which even Jaskier would admit this was not the time nor the place. Second was his name.  
"Geralt."  
"It's y . . . You feel . . . yourself?" Geralt pulled her face right back against his chest, running his hand down the back of her hair.  
"I don't feel like Kolgrim if that's what you're asking." She tried to get an eye to the scene, to see where the viper was but Geralt was not holding much back from his vice like grip on her. Anima went pale, her fingers were wet, her fingers were covered in blood, Geralt's blood. "Geralt what happened? What did I do?"  
"Letho get him out of here." Geralt was stern, firstly because Anima had worked very hard not to have Kolgrim on the end of some blade and he was not sure that work wouldn't be undone if not by a wolf then by Nehalenia. Geralt was unsure how caged the diety was in the moment, the risk to everyone's safety was still very much lurking in the shaddows.  
"When her hysteria dies down-" Letho pulled a still sleeping Kolgrim over his shoulder. "Tell her that her stupidity was . . . appreciated." Slow as ever, not a thing in the wolrd caused agency in the viper. "She was asking for her things." Letho tossed Anima's belongings to Jaskier.  
"So we're just letting that happen?" Lambert sneered.  
"They're-" Vesemir started.  
"Witchers yeah that doesn't cut it Ves. He would have killed Geralt-"  
"And if I see Kolgrim again I'll end him myself, but our concern is our own not the vipers. Chasing after them won't get Geralt back to the keep any faster."  
"Is anyone going to explain what the fuck is going on?" Lambert found Vesemir's conclusion to be lacking any form of justice and he did not have the patience for Geralt and Anima to spoon each other back to sanity.  
"Oh this isn't a witcher thing you've been keeping under wraps?" Lidrie watched as Letho's horse struggled through deep snow going further south. She wondered if she was best off making a break for it too. With the rules ever changing, with even witchers falable, how safe was she?

"What . . . Geralt what happened? I put Kolgrim to sleep then what-" She pulled her blood stained hand into view.  
"You can't linger there so long Anima . . . or use your powers for such a length. She . . . almost took you. I would have figured something out but-" He grabbed her palm and wiped it against his tunic with a grunt.  
"Nehalenia?"  
"No! Roach! Yes of course Nehalenia! All you've been going on and on about for months! Did you know that would happen? Has this been happening and you weren't telling us?! You had a very detailed plan Anima at no point did you speak of becoming a vessel for-" Jaskier was ranting. It really was comical when she thought about it how little taste for the magic and mysteries that made her that her company enjoyed.  
"That _can't_ happen . . .You can't resurrect Nehalenia without all the pieces of the mirror. I've heard the old wives tale backwards and forwards. And while I'm heavy with the stuff I'm not the completed artifact by any stretch."  
"Resurrection and possession are two completely different things. Wives tales are often . . .incomplete." Eskel noted.  
"Hmm." Geralt's head hurt, his body hurt, everything fucking hurt, he felt so ill-equipped for this, drowning in the impossible task of protecting Anima from what he couldn't see.  
"Don't worry." He barely even heard her gentle words. "Geralt?" Her voice was a bit muffled half pinned against his chest. "Do you hear me? There's no need for all this dread. I'm back in control."  
"No need?" She hadn't seen it, seen her, or rather her body with all that she was nowhere to be found.  
"I'm here. You're here. What will scowling do? I do need my bag though." Being scared of what was in her skin would do nothing for them. She shoved everything deep bellow an impenetrable centered calm.  
"Your bag?" He wasn't letting go of her, he wasn't sure when he'd feel it safe to.  
"Here." Jaskier placed it at her side, keeping himself a bit of arms length.  
"You will have to Geralt." Her voice was soft and smiling. How after all of today had her light coy sensibility just returned to her in a second's time? It truly was an understated but remarkable skill.  
"Have to what?"  
"Let me go."  
"I'm not losing you to some reflection. I don't care-" Geralt had rage just under the surface waiting to burst out.  
"Another time about all that, it's not going anywhere. I'm not talking about losing me. I need to treat your injury and I can't do that with my current position, no matter how comfortable it is." She sounded like her, casual beyond reason. Her pulse seemed nearly back to normal all things considered and there was no way Nehalenia would nuzzle so comfortably against him.  
"Hmm." But as witchers tend to be he was not so easily swayed. She leaned up, kissing him softly, she could still taste iron on his lips. "You saved me like you always do, and worry like you always will. Let me do something I am unfortunately well versed in? Let me patch you up a bit? It's not a scratch Geralt, and I've-"  
"Hmm, fine." This was Anima, he was sure of it, no one nagged at him so sweetly. He loosened his grip and let her snake around to his back. She had to keep a hand at his shoulder to prop herself up, her pulse was back but her body had not regained its strength. Geralt's tunic stuck to his skin, hours of bleeding soaked the fabric. "Fuck!" Something slimy with a honey like smell to it and a sting not too far of from a nest of bees was smeared against the ragged stitches.  
"Jaskier you-"  
"I did my best Anima! I'm used to pulling lute string not . . . flesh and fucking bone." Jaskier was spent, he was a fan of adventure but this peak and plummet was a bit too much.  
"I was going to say you did well to have it stay shut up till . . . me."  
"That wasn't you." Geralt growled as soon as the word left her mouth  
"Jeeze everyone's wound." Anima's smile crumpled just a bit.

  
"Because of you! Because you did this! None of this would have happened if you weren't here." Lidrie was put out for almost the opposite reason, she had wanted more, blood, guts, a dead body if she was getting real ambitious with it, the turn of events were leaving her lacking.  
"Lidrie be careful if that glass house you live in. No one would have been poisoned if you weren't here." Jaskier's eyes searched for backup but none came.  
"And I wouldn't be here if she wasn't. She is the root of it all." Lidrie shot back. "What no calm little come back?" Lidrie had gone with the plan to get out of her cell, it did not mean she had to like Anima as a person.  
"Geralt drink this. It should help slow the bleeding." Anima at first did what annoyed Lidrie most, ignored her but after some additional thought she finally spoke. "No come back, you're not wrong."  
' _Pragmatists! I'm surrounded by ludicrous pragmatists.'_ Jaskier let out a forlorn sigh. No wonder he was alone in defending Anima's actions everyone else was busy stroking one out to the facts of it all.  
"First Nekker contract come spring is going to be a breeze by comparison eh? No ring rust here! But I get what you're saying Jaskier . . . How's the blood loss on standing?" Anima paused to gage Geralt's condition.  
"I was stabbed not disembowled." Geralt hadn't all winter, and didn't now see all the fuss about a flesh wound. Even if he had his mind was elsewhere, on Nehalenia, come spring they would have to go somewhere, do something, ignoring it was no longer an option. He helped Anima to her feet, she had more trouble standing than he did. It made sense, her pulse had been all over, cross bodies and planes of existance.  
"We're better for it though. I think we've shown a lot of ourselves the good the bad-"  
"Eskel's dick." Lambert got a full laugh out the tense group.  
"Knowing more is always better, always worth it . . . right? Makes us stronger? Closer?" Anima's optimistic speech ended on a sad note as she looked at Geralt. She didn't wan't to leave his side come the thaw but all logic was pointing towards aretuza.  
"Is it too much to ask to get out of the snow and something in my stomach before debating philosophies?" Geralt was hurting but more than that he was just exhausted, he buried his nose in Anima's hair and closed his eyes, let his senses that had been perched vigilant since the very moment he woke just rest comfortably for a while.  
"Not too much at all. I'll make us breakfast." Anima buried her sadness down beside the fear.  
"No!" Jaskier quite literally put his foot down.

  
"Jaskier? I know it's past breakfast . . . I just wanted jam so I thought a brunch would be-"  
"And you can have jam and Geralt can have a nice toasty bed to lay in and grumble or a bath to get off whatever it is you lathered on him. You two will learn how to rest if I have to burry you six feet under myself. Do nothing but get back to Kaer Morhen without summoning a demon or stepping into a dragon's nest! That is all I require out of the two of you . . . please not here too."  
"Here too . . . what?" Geralt knew the sentence was garbled but he didn't take the time to reconfigure it.  
"Claw and scratch and fight the world till you break and bleed from every pore. I hoped here of all places you two would . . . I don't know just have some peace. You two always promise to do better and I know you try but you say fuck all half way through and stumble into something more dreadful than what came before it. Please just . . . "  
"It's . . . how we survive Jaskier. We can't ask the world to wait till-" Geralt started.  
"Have you tried?!" Jaskier questioned with genuine anguish.  
"To ask the world to wait?" Geralt's brow rose at the absurd question that clearly had some nuance he wasn't catching.  
"Or ask the world . . . your world. . ." Jaskier gestured amongst himself and the witchers. "To man the helm just for a few . . . it's a bit past noon today. Let me keep you affairs in order till a bit past noon three days from now, week's end. Here of all places Geralt, trust the world not to crumble while you rest."  
"What are you going to . . . hmmm." He had to learn to trust people, rely on those who cared. They surely wanted to be needed just like he did, he didn't want Jaskier to think his consideration was not appreciated. Like his hand to the headboard, it bristled less against his nature if he could convince himself someone else needed it of him. Perhaps just like the headboard expirement, he'd even enjoy part of it. "No dragons or demons. We can handle that Jaskier. Then what?"  
"Then . . ." Jaskier floundered for a moment, Geralt did well with methodical plans, Anima detested I don't knows, a simple I'll improvise would not suffice.  
"Then I'll take a look at you both. I can't have you bleeding cross my keep or have her . . . bring any more uninvited guests." Vesemir spoke.  
"Jaskier and I will make lunch . . . or what was it brunch? Too many names for just food at a different time of day." Eskel had been watching, Jaskier wasn't performing or entertaining, he was caring and . . . living boldly for those he cared about. Eskel couldn't be a performer or an entertainer but he could aim to be a bit more like that, less loud surely but more . . . passionate.  
"Fuck that domestic bullshit. This has been swell and all but I'm taking Lidrie out to kill something. Maybe you can kick your feet up Geralt but if there's a cat . . . viper . . . Neha . . whatever. I'm going to do what witchers do . . . solve the problem." As demeaning as it sounded, it was Lambert nearly trying to be helpful, Geralt wouldn't have to worry about being blitzed if Lambert killed every field mouse within miles.  
"Me?" Lidrie had been expected to be carted back to her cell.  
"Better places to be?" Lambert would give that if she wanted it, but he didn't like being alone as much, he was still a relic but a relic that was alive and could do as he chose. If he chose to spend his time with a psychopath that's intrest in live witchers varied moment to moment, just a bomb ready to explode, that was his choice. He could very much be a witcher because he had no choice . . . and still make decisions when it came to much of everything else, his life was only as much predetermined misery as he allowed.

Things did go according to plan. It had been Geralt's spleen causing most of his hurt, unfortuenetly, it would be just that, hurt, till he healed naturally. That would take some of that bed rest Jaskier was bleating about all the way back the path. Vesemir had leafed through books and found what atleast by the ominous wording of it seemed more of a curse than a charm that would keep Anima's nightmares, Nehalenia's entry a bit more contained until someone more magicaly inclined could have a look, it'd hold till spring, longer if they were careful.

They had brunch in bed which at it's start had been adorable. "Hmm." Geralt let out a displeased grunt.  
"What? Did I jostle you? I'm trying-"  
"I have to check in to make sure you're still breathing let alone moving too much. I'm not made if paper Anima you can-"  
"What is it then?" If he downplayed this stabbing one more time she'd lose her mind.  
"Just ..." This was pleasant, nice even he shouldn't want to ruin it yet. "You never get sick of it? The jams?"  
"No." And she shot him a skeptical look for a moment then trudged on. "Sometimes I know maybe I should, but it has an ever lasting appeal to me. I see jam and I want it, always!" She was smiling, and inbetween words chewing but something was off. Geralt grumbled again but this time she didn't even ask why, prompting an angry sigh from the witcher. "You've gone from brooding to full on moping? I mean you're allowed to mope don't get me wrong but Geralt-" Anima took another bite.  
"Just because this . . . got away from you doesn't mean you have to stop all together."  
"Stop what?"  
"The way you . . . it's not your ability Anima it's mostly just your intuition and it's . . . how you are." It was a poor explanation and Geralt aimed to give it a second shot. "You . . .if you were being yourself would've said Geralt it isn't about jam and we would've gone back and forth till we got to the root of it."  
"Seems you don't need me to do that, you've got it all figured out." Anima smiled a bit fuller.  
"I've told you before I don't need you." He groaned at the way that sounded but words were not his forte she'd just have to read him like he knew she could. "That's why it was clear Kolgrim didn't love you he was just obsessed with you, if he didn't have you he could not go on. I can stand and breathe, live even feel without you." He paused, this was an example in the flesh, he could do all those things, it was just better with her aiding him. "I don't want to. It's harder . . . worse . . . almost pointless . . . without you. Yes I know it isn't jam and I know if I sat and thought about it I could solve what's bothering me alone but you . . . It's less . . . or easier . . . No-" He was tripping himself up, maybe he had gotten so used to Anima finding the words for him he'd have to dig deeper to gather them on his own.  
"I'm not afraid of my . . . intuition. Alright maybe a bit, some of it is tied to my ability and . . . that went to shit in ways I did not see coming." She let out a sigh. "And I'm sorry if I worried you into thinking I'd abandon . . . doing anything I can to make some part of your very difficult life easier. I will, I want to, I'll always want to. I love you Geralt and-" She heard him let out a heavy breath. "Did you doubt that? Think I stopped loving you? Simply because I didn't pry over jam? Is that well of worry truly bottomless?"  
"No." Geralt shook his head, slinging an arm around her shoulder pulling her just a bit closer. "I'm used to routine . . . patterns. I don't get that with you and Jaskier often but you do have . . . things about you I am accustomed to. Patterns and mannerisms I can pick up on and give me some bearings. I didn't worry you had stopped . . . changed maybe. I didn't mind how this were . . . are."  
"I like how things are too but what if . . . to keep us safe . . . things have to? Gods Jaskier is right even in our own fucking bed surrounded by brunch and blankets it's still . . . shit." She let out an angry sigh all her own.  
"Hmm." It dawned on him, he had overreacted. She had been avoiding prying not because anything had changed but because she was avoiding the discussion on how it would. _'Mid stride.'_  
"So?" Well the conversation could not be undone, and she could give him set ups he was accustomed to if that helped.  
"So what Anima?" It did help, a half smile crept onto his face.  
"Aretruza? Thoughts?" If that wasn't a so to end all sos though.  
"You don't have to go anywhere you don't want, I meant that." He wanted that point to come off as deep and true as his voice implied. "I do think . . . it'd be wise to see what the sorceresses know beyond the wives tales. We have some places to stop first so long as nothing gets worse."  
"Oh? The world really does not wait." Anima smirked, kissing at his chest. "Where will we go first?" Anima was nervous about being left in Aretruza, afraid if being left at any point if she knew where they were going she could make sure as shit she'd be there.  
"Would it make you feel better if I promised to stay near by?" Geralt wanted to grind those nerves into dust but they always seemed to find a way to sprout up again. "If I don't take any monster contracts . . . stick to more human woes-"  
"I'd not toruture you so." Anima shook her head with a snicker at the thought of Geralt bored and frustrated out of his mind fetching feathers or finding finances with cold feet, he took those jobs but they did not entertain him in the slightest. "Before Aretruza where will we go?"  
"You don't have to-"  
"Geralt don't back track your whole face sours when you do that." She ran a smoothing hand down his pain laced cheek. "It's my choice, I understand. You think it's the wise choice, I have your opinion on the matter. Before Aretruza, where?" Each sentence ended with a smile and a nod.  
"You don't . . . hmm." He didn't want to be cut off again. "There's someone going under the guise of a vampire I killed, I think Lidrie said the contract came from Redenia."  
"A vampire? I have a penchant for those."  
"I know." His voice was flat but he shared a smile with her.  
"So is the contract on the vampire or-"  
"On me."  
"That's new." Anima tried to keep the concern that caused restrained, they could day dream about anything but Aretruza for a bit.  
"Think that's new? She wants me alive."  
"Alive?" Anima laughed at how purposterous Geralt found that, his face in near awe. "Well I truly have a stake in this. I aim to keep you and from the sounds of it so does she. I promise you Geralt whatever this vampire wants from you, vampires can be tempting, whatever life she offers you-"  
"She doesn't say it like you do."  
"You said she's an imposter, you've never met her Geralt. How do you know she doesn't say your name in whatever utterly different than anyone else way that I do . . . shutter the thought better than I do?" Anima teased.  
"Hmm." Geralt just gave a half snort of a dismissal, thinking that's all it warranted.  
"I mean it is just your name . . . I know what it means to you when I say it but brass tacks of it. It doesn't _sound_ any different does it?"  
"Hmm." There was no snort of dismissal, he actually thought on it, replayed it in his mind. For as much as he held the way she said his name on the highest if pedestals, as often as he used the word please to hear it again he wasn't quite sure how to explain it. "Maybe not . . . brass tacks but it sounds . . . when other people say it they are calling me and I answer. When you say it . . . it's more . . . warm, like you're calling me home. Not here . . . just . . . wherever you are is home and I'm welcomed there and that's . . . That was something I was always envious of."  
"Having a home?"  
"Any shack, cave or well kept tree can be a home. Not for a witcher, at least never for long. We never stay . . . We're visitors wherever we go. Even here, it's not some place I could . . . stay. You don't call me to go you call me to stay."  
"So not the pitch but the purpose." As always he could stammer and struggle through long paragraphs about delicate emotions that made him uncomfortable and she'd find just the right little sentence to sum it up neatly.  
"Something like that." He didn't know where they went from here. Anima with all her powers could only delay and dodge her conclusion for so long. "After that we should let Jaskier get to visit his people. It's only fair."  
"His people? Where even is Jaskier's home? Lettenhove? To be honest I don't know where-"  
"Jaskier loses count of where he's from. His people are the . . . artists." Geralt was already annoyed, they were a chatty idealistic . . .opinionated bunch. "Oxenfurt. That's his keep. You . . . might like it." He wasn't sure. There was plenty of drinking and dancing but Anima was odd with her likes and dislikes, they were particular yet obscure, hard to pin down unless they were of the preserved fruit variety. "They probably have jams . . . with long names and friviolous ingredients." He could offer her that.  
"You don't have to sell me on it Geralt I'll go with you wherever you go . . . I want to stay . . . here" She poked a finger at his heart. "As much you do. It's not my home you're welcomed in, it's our home."  
"That's it." He had no more words, no more after the thaw, no more delays.  
"I have to go." Anima kept her smile as she rested her face against his chest with a nod.  
"You don't." He hugged her pulling his neck long to rest his chin over her head. "I can figure out something else. I know an archpriestess . . . Nenneke . . . _she_ you would like." Geralt hummed thoughtfuly. Anima would get along with the mother of the temple of Melitele, that was a fact. Though Geralt did think the two of them in the same room might be . . . too much of a similar thing.  
"I'm sure I will, and we can go to see her after but aretruza is the right choice. I won't train there, I just need to know . . . all there is to know about Nehalenia."  
"If they offer a way to help you contain this, you should take it."  
"I will not train there." Anima repeated sternly. "No one ever trains you solely for your benefit. There's always something even the best intending teachers want from you in return. It could make me stronger to train under the sorceresses but there is no doubt in my mind they would try to use any strength or skill I possess for their gain. I've been to such a school before Geralt. I hated it once, I'd hate it even more now that I have somewhere I'd rather be."  
"You always make long trips out of short goals. We'll travel half way cross the continent for a lecture." Geralt only half scoffed, he understood, equally detested being indebted.  
"And you make short trips into unreachable goals."  
"Don't say it." He grumbled, he knew he had promised the mountain, knew he kept saying the next day, tomorrow and here they were months into winter and they were still no closer.  
"I didn't say anything." Anima pulled away from his chest, leaning up to kiss him. "I have you to climb who needs a mountain. Though you need to heal before I attempt any sort or ascent." But she continued to push playful light kisses across his body, teasing just short of taunting.  
"Long or short . . . small or unreachable. You know how to make me want to go anywhere do anything." He groaned as some of the kisses turned into nips and pulls.  
"We can't do much of anything for at least three days. Bards orders. I'm sure in a day or so, once I'm satisfied with your stitches, I can do more than heavy petting but no travels Geralt. Don't promise it again, it's growing old hat." Her hands were finding spots aching, from pain or want and massaged at muscles accordingly.  
"I hate this already." Three days, he could do it, bear three days of relaxing. Then she would climb, him, the mountin, both to conserve time if need be. the ground could open under Nehalenia's whim and try to swallow them whole, there would be untouched mountain snow under their feet in three days time. He was a man of his word, a man of action


	15. Playing for keeps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A friendly game is only friendly till someone loses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to have the final chapter here then shit got long . . . tried to fix it . . . got longer so I just need to post this before it spirals out of control.

The first night was . . . awkward. "Geralt I want you to tie my hands to the headboard." Anima threw out casually as anything.  
"I thought you said no more than heavy petting till I've healed up?" He arched a brow, honestly he didn't feel fit for it but if Anima would so outwardly ask like this he'd find a way to place the pain elsewhere, he always wanted to give anything he could.  
"Not for . . . that. I think I'm going to sleep."  
"Then sleep." Geralt shrugged.  
"I . . . Geralt do you not remember what happened last time I went unconscious? What if that happens again? Sozada said-"  
"Will you hold that omen over my head till it happens just as Sozada predicted?" Geralt had a bit of snarl to that question, he was right and truly done with omens. It had been foolish putting weight to and making plans around them.  
"Not over your head. Worry maybe." She didn't want to lie. "Omens aside then, what if when I sleep Nehalenia-"  
"I don't think that's what happened. I think you used your power too hard for too long taking one of my potions ontop of that let a . . . window open that she crawled out of when you fell unconscious. If you're more conservative with it you should be fine."  
"What facts are you basing that on? Or just a witcher's gut?"  
"Hmm." There were no facts when it came to Nehalenia, only theories. "So what? You want me to hogtie you every time you sleep?"  
"Ideally no . . . and it won't help much. My skills are of a hands free variety. Just . . . to see if she comes? If she does, at least she can't just storm out into the night. Hopefully I'll sleep awkwardly and wake with sore shoulders and nothing more, but don't bawk at what little precautions I can take." Anima stood and rummaged around for the scarves.  
"Fine. Tonight. You'll starve off sleep till I relent." He frowned, there was no tingle to his skin as the scarves found their way in his fingers. "Though if nothing comes of it I won't package you for the picking when we're out on the road."  
"Who would dare atempt picking me with you laying at my side?" She saw Geralt's frown grow deeper as Kolgrim was clearly flashing in front of his eyes. "Fair, if everything goes well I won't ask this of you again without cause."  
"If she does appear." Anima's left wrist was bound. "What would you have me do?"  
"Tactical retreat?" Then her right.  
"I don't run Anima, any way you say it."  
"That's what I'm afraid of." And her head thumped against a pillow a bit defeated.  
"Don't fear . . . just sleep Anima."

It took a long while for her to do just that, let sleep take her. Geralt tried not to stare, tried to meditate, let all of the day lose it's claws in him but she would sigh or snore or wriggle and his eyes would jump to her. Then the nightmares came and Geralt swallowed hard as his heart crept into his throat. He wouldn't run but what _would_ he do? Her face was contorted, her limbs pulling and scrambling but Geralt did much of nothing, just ran a hand through her hair, stating again and again just the only phrase he knew to soothe her. "I'm here." He repeated it till she settled and started up again as another haunt held her. "Stay." He'd pepper in occasionally. "Please." He added once as a particularly large gasp rode through her body. For the first time in his whole life, nearly nothing had been the ticket. The nightmares came and went, only a sleeping red head at his side. No restless diety, no possessions, no stabbing, nearly nothing.

\- Day one-

"Geralt?!" She woke less than gracefuly.  
"Here I'm here. As always big to do with nothing to show." Geralt was a bit cranky as he undid the knots, he was tired too.  
"Alright your turn."  
"My turn. You're going to-"  
"What would you _like_ me to do? Is there something I can do for you Geralt? To help you sleep? You deserve a rest with some real rest in it. That's what this is all about isn't it?" That's what this whole winter had been about.  
"Your hands are probably sore" He felt a silly soft want brewing and he searched for any excuse to deny himself, less it be oblidged and he get used to it.  
"Hands are fine. Shoulders a bit knotted but that's to be expected. Would you like-"  
"Sometimes . . . " He cut her off before he convinced himself otherwise. "You run your fingers round the edges of my ears . . . it's . . . relaxing." It wasn't something she actively did, more so a happenstance action when just feeling around him, but he had grown to crave that particular touch.  
"Say no more." She moved to get his head at the best angel she could, starting with a gentle rub to his temples then gliding fingers along his ears. His eyes shot up to her questioning. "Unless there's something more you'd like?" He looked almost asking, almost wanting, but he set his face stoic shook his head no.  
_'This is plenty.'_  
"I meant it Geralt. Anything I can do to make your life just a little bit better, a little softer. What? Would you like me to whisper your name to you as you slip into sleep?"  
"Hmm." He fake pondered for a moment then let out a chuckle with another, more relaxed shake of his head. "No."  
"Then what?"  
"It's silly."  
"I love silly."  
"Then you pick your partners . . . oddly."  
"Geralt?!" She gave a playful pinch to one of his ears, which pried one of his eyes that had since closed back open.  
"The tunics you bought for me-"  
"That I bought for myself apparently." Anima rolled her eyes, she knew where this was going.  
"Hmm." It pleased him that he didn't have to explain another soft want of his, he hated that part most. He watched as she changed or rather allowed herself to get swallowed in one of his tunics. That pleased him further, seeing her draped in something that was intrinsically him it made her look . . . safe and comfortable which calmed his ever present worry. As she reclaimed her spot, starting at the temples again before caressing at his ears, the best part hit him. A homey mix of the both of them held in his nose, cracking tea leaves and long dried fruit laced softly under leather oils and some untangible traveled continent smell, or onions depending on who was sniffing. He could rest here, trick all his senses into pretending he remembered what home felt like. He didn't feel soft, simply embraced, nearly smothered in the warmest way possible by it. "Hmm." And he didn't even need words, none in the slightest, just the humm from deep in his chest said how wonderful that feeling was and he didn't think for a moment Anima needed paragraphs, sentences, not a syllable more to understand that. Geralt had needed sleep more, found it faster, deep heavy well earned rest.

There was a tapping at their door, only one person would tap in Kaer Morken. Geralt woke with a bit of a snort, doing a big pawing wipe of his whole face. "Fuck. What is it Jaskier?"  
"I brought you two some dinner. Were you . . ." Jaskier opened the door a crack and before him laid a witcher with sleep still in his bones. "You really did it. Slept like normal people? No wraiths or revenge plots?"  
"Normal is relative but we make the impossible possible. No near death experiences." Anima smiled.  
"Dinner? How long have I been asleep? Have you been doing that all this time?" Geralt still felt Anima's fingertips at his ears.  
"Hours? Sun's down. Not the whole time but . . . you're right it is relaxing, kept my hands busy." She pulled her hands back to her.  
"So . . . I wasn't expecting you two to be resting so well. I had intended to bring you to the-"  
"I need to stand." Geralt no longer felt pleasantly smothered, felt a bit drowned in the softness and would grab at any chance at firm footing.  
"Well . . . eat first." Jaskier held up two plates to the witcher that was all but pushing for the door. The bard was confused and felt a bit bad, like he had somehow ruined that rare peace he was always pleading for Geralt to give a go.  
"What's next?" Geralt handed Anima a plate before beginning to shovel food into his face like it would run away.  
"A bath? Good way to end or start a day!" Geralt had been thrown or rather grabbed, he had been floating somewhere soft and safe and the bard had plucked him, tossed him back to reality, somewhere that soft and vulnerable could Get Geralt killed. "I'm sorry." But the words didn't find Geralt's ears.  
"We can do that." Geralt nodded, even relaxing was a contract under a different guise.

The bath shared with Jaskier and Eskel was relaxing to begin with, till it wasn't. "So I propose a challenge." Jaskier was grinning ear to ear.  
"We've been through this bard." Geralt warned, a challenge in the baths was not something he wanted a repeat of. "That is not . . . I don't like sharing Anima. That makes sense doesn't it?"  
"Not really. It was never to be a swinging session. You two have more outdoor sex then . . . well then I do. So I know it's not the environment that bothers. Is it me? You can tell me if my mere presense makes you go limp-"  
"I don't-" Geralt did not know how to feild that question.  
"It's not you it's me Jaskier. I have a bit of stage fright and Geralt's not one for doing anything a half measure."  
"Is that all? I can help you with-"  
"Jaskier I have grown accustomed to your company don't make me seek it at your grave." Geralt warned. He hadn't been dancing, he meant it, sharing Anima was more a nightmare than a fantasy to the witcher. He did not wish for the bard to help her in any way when it came to that. The prospect of someone prompting Anima louder, upset him thoroughly.  
"Riddles." Eskel finally spoke up.  
"Excuse me?" Anima was unsure where this conversation was headed, it really was a riddle.  
"You got side tracked." Eskel tussled Jaskier's damp hair. "Chalenge was riddles not sex."  
"That . . . it was." Jaskier's eyes popped with realization, he had completely forgotten. "So which of you is best at riddles? The devlish grin was back.  
"Go on." Geralt appeared aloof but the bard was smart, knew that the white wolf loved being best, being better, he was a sucker for a challenge, this was for him.  
"It occurs once in every minute. Twice in every moment. And yet never in one hundred thousand years. What is it?"  
"Well I'm fucked." Anima chuckled, Geralt and Eskel broke curses, traveled kingdoms, Anima was not wordly or wise in the tecnical sense, this was not for her.  
"The letter M." Geralt answered with a satisfied smirk. It was alright though, that this wasn't for her, she got to see Geralt enjoy himself and that was a riddle solved all it's own.

"Whose wining?" It had been round after round and trivial fun it was not, Eskel and Geralt had begun rough housing to get answers out first while Anima and Jaskier looked on in a mix of fright and glee.  
"Er . . ." Jaskier hadn't really been keeping count but hadn't had the heart to tell them.  
"A tie? I mean not Anima but-"  
"It isn't a tie." Eskel tried to replay every question in his head.  
"No it was practice. Final round." Jaskier would have to just press them forward. "Best out of four."  
"Does the winner . . . get something? Or what is this . . . for?" Anima did not exactly have a compeditors spirit.  
"No. Do not make this . . . more!" Jaskier had underestimated how intense witchers could get.  
"Next question." Geralt was impatient.  
"Alright. It has a golden head. It has a golden tail, but it has no body. What is it?" Oh the manner of beasts flickering almost on instinct through Geralt and Eskel's mind.  
"A coin?" Anima gave it a shot.  
"Ah more than a pretty face yet." Jaskier grinned. "Anima's in the lead."  
"Nope." She wanted no part of this race.  
"Alright then quiet." But then Jaskier reached out and to everyone's shock grabbed Anima's face. "My love, when I gaze on thy beautiful face, Careering along, yet always in place, The thought has often come into my mind If I ever shall see thy glorious behind. What are you?"  
"Uncomfortable?" Anima's eyes darted side to side.  
"The moon!" Eskel grinned.  
"That wasn't fair." Geralt had been distracted.  
"It's not my fault you can't be smart and angry at the same time." Eskel nodded at Jaskier to go on.  
"This thing all things devours: Birds, beast, trees, flowers; Gnaws iron, bites steel; Grinds hard stones to meal; Slays king, ruins town, And beats high mountain down. What is it?"  
"Time." Geralt's knuckles were white around the edge of the bath, he was very much determined not to lose.  
"Last questions all the marbles. A beggar's brother went out to sea and drowned.  
But the man who drowned had no brother.  
What was the relationship between the man who drowned and the beggar?"  
"Both beggars were priests." Said Eskel.  
"The beggar was his sister." Answered Geralt.  
"Now that's a tie." Anima laughed outright at the displeased look on both witcher's faces.  
"We keep going till someone wins." Geralt had never settled for a tie before and wouldn't now.  
"Where's Lambert when you need him?" Anima sunk deeper into the water. Jaskier asked every riddle he'd ever heard early into morning. Wins, losses, do overs and double or nothings till the poor bard's throat grew raw.  
"Enough. I can take no more, not a single play on words till next winter! I'm pruned mind and body!" Anima shouted, her head hurt.  
"We can get Vesemir to dig some out of his books. Put a real pot on it." Eskel had missed joking and competing with Geralt it'd be nice to do this again, it was something to look forward to.  
"I'll beat you next year too." Geralt hadn't remembered a day with so many easy gained smiles. Maybe there really was something to this whole relaxing gambit.

\- Day two-

"Playing dead to keep out of Jaskier's cross hairs?" Geralt woke and the rythm of Anima's breathing told him she was awake but she wan't moving, her eyes weren't open.  
"I'll miss this. All of it. Maybe if I don't open my eyes it can stay that way."  
"All of it?" Geralt's tone was to reminded her of all the shit they'd been through, not all of it has been pleasant.  
"Ok maybe not all of it. You . . . how happy you are here, I'll miss that. I know you are happy out there too . . . sometimes, but you can't show it like you do here, it's not safe to. I'll miss that. Wish I could bottle the air and bring it with us. I'll miss the other wolves-"  
"Even Lambert?"  
"Especially Lambert."  
"Really?" Geralt sat up. Lambert teased and taunted her at every invitation.  
"Emotions are my whole deal and of all you witchers he bears his the boldest. Is there a lot of variety? No. but I get Lambert, he makes sense to me sometimes even more than you do. He's a fine friend."  
"Hmm." If she said so. _'She's come around on it. On here.'_ That thought almost flew past him. "And Vesemir?"  
"I . . . Don't think we'll ever see eye to eye but I'll miss the old grump too. Think he'll allow me back after all the rukus I've brought?"  
"Hmm." Allow probably not. "With Vesemir it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. If it's not his idea he has a hard time seeing how it's the right one. It's not his ego he just-"  
"I think he knows his boys well, knows their plans put them at risk he's not comfortable with. I can . . . apreciate that. Lambert thinks me an annoyance, Vesemir views me as a threat. That won't change in a winter . . . in many winters."  
"Does his heart good, he knows it, getting the blood pumping every now and again." Anima was being too hard on Vesemir, not giving him enough credit. The old witcher could very well view her as a threat, it didn't mean he didn't like her. "Like his blades and his lectures. Ves likes a worthy threat."

The door burst open. "Gods aren't you two done lounging?" Lambert's ears must've been burning.  
"Hmm." Geralt was getting antsy, this bed rest was causing an uncomfortable build of energy inside of him. "One more day." He ground out glaring up at the ceiling, he had promised Jaskier he'd try and he was trying.  
"Your liver wasn't pierced was it?"  
"You stormed in here to see if we were up to drinking?" Anima scoffed.  
"Not you. Him." Lambert pointed at Geralt. "You'll follow him like a new born kit . . . Are you coming or not?" Lambert missed a bit of the old days too. They had drank this winter but not like they used to.  
"Drinking is still resting?" Geralt wanted to get out of bed something fierce but he didn't want to bail on rest like it was claimed they often did.  
"The way you beasts do? Not exactly, but . . . close?"  
"Come on I'll keep you out of the mother hen's gaze." Lambert began tapping his boot impatiently.  
"Down in the cell with Lidrie?" Anima had a hunch.  
"You've got a better idea?"  
"I'd say it can't be worse than riddles but this place and it's inhabitants tend to rise to the occasion." Anima stood and stretched.  
"Why the fuck are you wearing Geralt's shirt?"  
"When did you start asking questions that didn't concern you." Not with much heat but Geralt bit back. "We'll go to your underground tea party stop complaining." Geralt was already dressed giving Lambert a hoarsing shove for them to pass.

The first day had been too many words, now Anima found herself surrounded with three people who when not cursing or grumbling felt it just as comfortable to sit in uncomfortable silence. "Thrilling." She'd drink this staring contest entertaining, chugging down another stout.  
"Do you even taste them going down?" Lidrie couldn't tell if Anima finally impressed her or if this was just another show of how any skill the empath possessed was just . . . pointless.  
"Sometimes." Anima grinned. "I bet you I can tell you your drink of choice!" And Anima was squinting hard at the caged human.  
"You can see what I'm drinking." Lidrie stated flatly holding up her beverage.  
"What you're drinking yes, Mahakaman mead. Witchers drink mead in taverns and Inns so why wouldn't you but . . . Cintrian Faro? Am I right? Tell me I'm right." Anima grinned wildly as she watched Lidrie scowl, but there was an amused glint in her eyes.  
"How do you do that?" Geralt had seen her pull out this trick to break ice time and time again, he'd never seen her fail yet.  
"The same way you ponder thoughtfully at an open field with a blood splotch and know a female rock troll is in heat and that's why miners are missing. Observation and Experience."  
"Well?" Lambert was asking for her to guess at him, Anima started to squint but she didn't get the chance.

"Three days Eskel!" It was Jaskier's ever carrying voice.  
"I know."  
"Is that too much to ask? Is that so hard?"  
"It's . . . harder than you'd imagine. I don't think-" Eskel's voice didn't carry so much as it dropped calmly through fissured stone.  
"Where the hell could they have gone? What needs killing? Who needs saving out here in the middle of fucking nowhere? They must seek trouble I swear."  
"Hmm." Geralt could hear concern bleed under the apparent anger of the bard. "Not trouble Jaskier!" He didn't need the top that was Jaskier's imagination to start spinning out of control "Quiet is what I've gone all the way to the middle of fucking nowhere to find." He shouted from the bottom of the stairs.  
"Geralt!" And swift stomping footsteps brought Jaskier down to them, at a speed so fast that he couldn't stop at the last step, his face colliding straight into Geralt's chest. "Ooof." He rubbed at his nose. "The fuck are you made of? marble?"  
"In the right light." Anima gave a cheeky grin.  
"Wh . . . Are you drunk?"  
"I don't get drunk bard." Her words didn't quite slur but they did saunter haphazardly out. "I get . . . warm." Anima stood proudly. "Is there some wiggle room in our affairs for that? Sit. I'll be back with wine for you and . . . she squinted hard at Lambert for a moment. "Redanian Lager for you." If the upper floors of the keep didn't have it she'd find some in the mound of Geralt's road wears in the cellar surely.  
"Lucky guess." Lambert scoffed.  
"Well this proves it. You can find activities that don't threaten your mortality on your own. You two are quick learners." Jaskier's anger fled from his bones as quickly as it had rooted there.

"Not another challenge." Anima groaned past another long sip, they had been drinking for hours and the bard sought entertainment.  
"It's a game not a challenge." Jaskier shook his head.  
"Witchers don't play. Not games not songs not parts in plays." Anima knew it was a doomed sentence, saw the glint in pickled witchers eyes at the prospect of competing again. "Fine. Start." She groaned and gulped again. She wasn't truly sour, this could be for Geralt too. Winter was coming to a close soon, she wanted him to have all the enjoyment he could stow away for the brighter months that burned at his happiness.  
"Never have I ever had sex with a sorcereress." The bard went for low hanging fruit. There were two surprise answers to this.  
"They're too much work." Lambert saw the almost pitying look shot his way by his brothers. "Wait you have?" He noticed Anima take another swig.  
"Much work means much coin if you're in the business for it. Sorcercesses are a self indulgent type, but she tipped well. Teratophiliacs often do." Anima had no blush about her, she had no shame about her previous profession.  
"Tera what now?" Lambert cocked his head.  
"Big word for a little drunk." Geralt smirked, he too was feeling warm, pulling her into his chest, enjoying as she nudged deeper into him, nuzzling aimlessly.  
"Eskel?" she was all but in Geralt's rib cage and he was fine with that, chuckling at the muffled sound of her voice.  
"Never have I ever . . ." A story Jaskier had told him hit his brain. "Used a glamor potion."  
"That was in confidence you . . . " But Jaskier stopped, saw almost fear in Eskel's eyes, the witcher had attempted at a playful jab and Jaskier's feigned betrayal was worrying the witcher. "Fine." And he took a long sip, scowling and smiling in the same moment as he drank.

"Really Jaskier?" Anima had to pull back to drink, this was a game she was bound to lose, there weren't very many taboos she had not embraced. "I mean Lidrie I get she's a spy. . . she was . . .Oda?" Her head lulled back in a sickly fashion, something that'd ache and pull in the morning. "When in Lyria?" At this Lidrie gave a shrug and a nod. "But you." Anima's head whipped back up. "You hate magic, hate potions and you're perfectly handsome. Why?"  
"You think I'm handsome?" Jaskier had a touched hand at his heart which bounced with a hiccup.  
"I will hear of this . . . at length." Geralt let out an annoyed grumble, seeing the bard's head grow in front of his very eyes.  
"You are handsome." Eskel fed Jaskier's ego further, devouring the appreciative kiss that garnered him.  
"It was a different time Anima, it was Oxenfurt."  
"So? Were you not handsome in Oxenfurt?"  
"I was. So was everyone else. That place values three things above all else. Beauty, expression and experimentation. Your turn."  
"Ok . . . never have I ever entered a fist fight for coin." And being ditinctly not battle harden had it's upsides, all but Anima drank.  
"Even the 'handsome' bard?" Lidrie mocked the poet.  
"He has a right hook." Geralt nodded, Jaskier was a lover not a fighter but it didn't mean the later he did any less passionately.  
"It was Oxenfurt." Jaskier shrugged.  
"I grow . . . weary of this place." Anima had never been to Oxenfurt and was beginning to find it more intimidating than Kaer Morhen.  
"You'll be fine." Geralt's hand behind her back knotted in her hair, pulled her back into him. "I'll have you." He bit down a groan as he felt her grind softly at him, kissing at his chest and up his throat.  
"Your turn." Anima sounded . . . lustful, that tended to happen when she drank too much, she would forget to hide her want away. Geralt had lost interest in this game, wanted to scoop Anima up and let her scratch at this itch. "Never have I ever . . ." And nothing but filth was coming to his mind, nothing but questions he wanted to hear Anima answer in that lustful tone she was basking in, he stirred further, his hips rose a bit as his head wandered. But he kept his true questions to himself, this was a dirty game though, he was expected to be a bit risqué. So a story Jaskier had told _him_ came to mind. "Brought food into the bedroom." No he'd keep his wants safe and away from the world, he'd hide them.  
"You must!" And Jaskier stood in a frenzy, Eskel had to place a hand at his back to keep him from toppling over.  
"Let me guess. It was Oxenfurt?" Anima laughed.  
"It . . . I'm just saying Anima have you ever-"  
"Probably." She took a sly sip.  
"held ice in your mouth and-"  
"What a mess." Anima chuckled.  
"When do you people find the time?" Lambert was wide eyed at the decadence of them all. "I haven't even had sex a-tergo-"  
"What the fuck is that?" Jaskier questioned, bamboozled there was a position he hadn't heard of.  
"It's a prudish way of saying from behind." And everyone but Lambert drank. Anima had remembered a clergyman wording it that way to her before an exchange and it sounded just as foolish then as it did now. "Beastly and amoral but give it a go Lambert it's not half bad."  
"Not all of us can just slut their way-" And now Jaskier wasn't the only one standing, Geralt was on his feet, Anima half toppled out of his lap. The white wolf was suddenly angry and already long drunk it wasn't an ideal combination.  
"Don't speak to her like that." The look of him didn't scare Anima, it saddened her. He had tried, he had laid in bed and closed his eyes, soaked and drank but Geralt had never really been able to fully relax. She wondered if he had ever, or if she had taken the ability from him. If he had traded rest for having her near, staying half riled at all times just to battle for her. That wasn't fair, wasn't love, that was toxic and torturous.

"Calm down I was just kidding." Lambert sneered. "Did I hurt your feelings?" There was a bit of genuine question under all the condescending tone of his voice as he threw a side glance at Anima. He really hadn't meant any offense, truly had been teasing same as he would with Geralt and Eskel.  
"I don't get offended." Anima shrugged and stood. She pressed her thumbs into Geralt's tense shoulder blades, placed her face into his back. "I stand by my earlier statement, they never taught jokes here. Geralt still cant hear jokes, and Lambert you still can't make them." She aimed to keep him, Geralt loved her but at what ever growing cost of Geralt's comfort?  
"Hmm." Similar to being jostled from softness the day prior Geralt had been resting in a heady mindspace, his blood running hot and Lambert just wrenched him straight from it. Arousal had been swapped out with anger. There was something to this relaxing business surely but Geralt was finding the transition too and from jarring."I think I've had enough."  
"Oh just get it out." Lambert rolled his eyes.  
"Do you enjoy getting punched in the face?" Eskel questioned, that seemed to be the only form of apology Lambert had, offering a free shot to the jaw.  
"I'm not going to hit you." Geralt was still hot to the touch but he wasn't one to let anger lead to abuse. "One more day." He ran a hand through his hair and began walking up the stairs. This resting was leaving him restless, he had too much energy.  
"Why . . . is this so hard for him?" Jaskier looked from Eskel over to Anima for answers.  
"He . . . Gets antsy at the end of winter. his mind is already out . . . trying to solve the world's problems. The snow won't let him pass yet. . . he's stuck, he knows it. Leaves him irratable." Eskel shrugged, if it had been winter a few years ago Geralt would have punched Lambert, felt better and gone on drinking but Geralt had changed, had grown over the years. There was less pent up angst around him but more tightly wound tension in him, tension that a punch wouldn't fix.  
"It's hard Jaskier . . . to trick yourself into thinking it's alright to relax."  
"It is alright to relax." That was exactly what he had been trying to tell them.  
"Jaskier he was stabbed . . . in the back . . . in his bed . . . in his home. That mind that's off solving the world's problem won't soon let him forget that. When it should have been over and done with, when he should have been able to breathe . . . He thought he had lost me. And that's just this week. Any time he lets his guard down, any time he eases the world kicks dirt in his face for having the audacity. Yes it's alright to relax and Geralt deserves it more than any but he's instinctualy bracing for what that seems to always cost him." Anima stated as she pondered the notion.  
"How can we help him?"  
"I . . ." Anima wasn't sure she had a fix for this. Because the only fix she found, proved his concern right, would rob him of what he thought he wanted. "You could start by not pissing him off." Anima gave a side glance at Lambert and made for her own exit.

"I'm fine." He was not fine, he was pacing, long angry breaths steaming from his nose.  
"I'm not." Anima sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'm scared." They should talk about it shouldn't they? Not brood and avoid it like they did with other inconvenient feelings? Perhaps she was overreacting?  
"Of me?" He stopped dead, he knew this winter had not always painted him in the best light, that he at turns had seem quick to rage, possessive with or without merit. "Anima I just . . . the thought of losing you . . ." And that thought had come more and more often as the days passed. "I wouldn't . . . I just want you safe. . . and happy. I thought I could . . . thought I was meant to. I kill beasts and lift curses and . . . I would never hurt you." It soured him terribly that he felt the need to add that.  
"You think too much." Her words seemed sad, broken. "I was supposed to help you, make things easier and lighter but they're not? Are they? Things are . . . muddy and . .  
. upsetting."  
"Are you . . . reconsidering? . . . Us?"  
"I am concerned. . . about us. Geralt I love you more than anything but-" Even her shrug seemed busted and sullen. Was she about to take her threat back? Had she finally had her fill? Of danger? Of witchers?  
Of him? Geralt felt the adrenalin he had been pushing down surge to the surface. "Don't. Ple. . . . Stay. I can-" He didn't know what he could do, his mind was in a flight or fight frenzy he wanted to punch and kick but he stood still, waiting for her words so he could convince her otherwise.  
"It's not like I can go anywhere Geralt. I-" She had noticed before becoming a statue Geralt had situated himself infront of the door as if she'd nab Roach and speed of into the wilds.  
"You know what I mean. I don't wish to beg Anima. Don't feel trapped here with me. You should want . . . I can fix it." His voice still held anger but it was trying to be softer.  
"I'd never make you beg for anything Geralt. I'm not afraid of you and I'm not leaving just like that . . . I wouldn't be cruel. Again you think too much." But it was her, head hung low, voice off somewhere that seemed deep in thought. "I don't want to be cruel."  
"What are you scared of?"  
"For." She corrected. "I'm afraid _for_ you. That this is all . . . too much for you. You did not sign up for this, you don't deserve this. You say that I'm home . . . your home is fucking haunted Geralt and where's the peace in that? I was supposed to be-" This winter was supposed to be for him, but it had been a parody of relaxation, she was a false feeling of home.

"Let me convince you?" The anger nearly vacated him as he filled with drive. His face seemed contemplative, determined it was one of her favorite faces.  
"Convince me of what Geralt?" She couldn't help but give half a smile.  
"That I do deserve this? You. I'll sign a contract in blood if I have to Anima." He gave an anoyed growl. "I want this . . . want you. I don't know how to get this through to you. You shouldn't doubt that I want you, all of you. Let me remind you? Let me convince you?" He was still a bit sauced and he was rambling slightly. She had picked a shitty time for introspection but he made her feel spontaneously and while that was a gift he gave her it was also a curse.  
"Geralt you missed my point . . . you deserve to be safe and happy. You do!"  
"Nothing I do is safe why should you be any different? Happy . . . I . . . it does not come naturally, I put little thought to what pleases me . . . but you do. If I keep you safe . . . something that does come naturally. . . You tend to find ways to make me happy." He was scared to lose that, to lose her.

"I . . .fine. Lie down Geralt." It finally hit her, that this was entirely the wrong moment for this conversation. She'd deflect and distract, come back when they were of sounder mind.  
"What for?" It was a stupid question, he doubted it was for a bedtime story but he had wanted to prove, to move, to act and it didn't sound like that was what she had in mind.  
"What did you want to ask? Want to know if I've ever done? I highly doubt you are interested in food with your frolics. Though I'd gladly lick jam off you if you'd like."  
"Hmm." His face wrinkled in contemplation, first at the drastic change of topic then at the notion itself. "That sounds wasteful. . . and sticky" But he did imagine her tongue inching over him would be pleasant. "If you'd like." Anything thing she wanted, so long as she wanted it of him, needed him, loved him. He wanted to deserve her, wanted her to believe that, he wanted to believe that. "Anima if you think sex will make me forget your contemplating leaving me-"  
"I don't want to leave you Geralt." And she held a long stare with him till she watched the breath he was holding leave. "You didn't answer my question Geralt. You do know of things that please you. Is it still uncomfortable to ask? Do you think I'd shoot down a request." It would have to be quite the deflection.

"No. . . It's not that." She had proved time and time again if he asked she would answer best that she knew how. "I just . . . prefer when it's asked of me, needed of me, it's doesn't feel as wrong." Witchers shouldn't want, that had not changed, was an unshakable mantra. All witchers did, found loopholes or ignored that loud beating drum but Geralt saw it almost as a hex. Something wanted, even if gained was doomed to be taken from him. Had he doomed Anima by wanting her? He couldn't take it back, only do his best to keep her safe, be good to her. Deserve that one important want. He wanted her to say it. How could he get her to say it? _'Just ask.'_ He asked and she answered, it could be simple. But simple bored, there was no challenge, no being better and best about it. He had to be best to make sure she staid, that made sense.  
"With one exception." Anima chuckled.  
"Hmm?" Was she in his head again?  
"Louder." He had wanted that, always and often, never having enough of that, of her.  
"Hmm." He gave a small nod.  
"So..." She laid next to him in bed. "If I want to know what your question was. I need to guess at your fantasies? Finally a game I can win." She peeled off his tunic and began kissing at him. Her fingers traced at his ribs. "Is it something soft like tickling?" They mapped long light lines paternlessly up and cross his body.  
"No." She wouldn't leave him if he kept her happy, and for now if happy meant playing a game, he'd play. Witchers weren't ticklish but they were sensitive, her touch while feathery was bringing that tingling feeling to his skin.  
"You like bites." And her teeth dug into his abdomen, a lovely little groan burning through him. "Is it playing with pain something like spanking."  
"No." He did like nips and bites but he didn't see them as a punishing actions and that's what he saw spanks to be, and the world was sinister enough, neither of them needed further punishments.  
"Well I'm halfway there." She now had her base, saw how he reacted to something she knew he did enjoy, the tickling as well as something he had never shown interest in, the spanking.  
"Already? Am I able to move?" He was getting a bit dizy, a bit lost, he didn't want that again, he had to be firm and planted.  
"I don't see any scarves around you." Anima no sooner ended her sentence and she was under him. Her clothes being tugged off of her. "Clothing doesn't do much for you so costumes and role playing is out."  
"Hmm." He shook his head no, he didn't want her looking any different than she did, it was her he wanted. He didn't want her thinking of another, wanted it to be clear as crystal it was him, just as he was, that she wanted back. "Clothes just get in the way. Witchers don't play parts in plays." And her pants were thrown to a far part of the room, almost as an additional precaution to keep her where she was.  
"Right witchers are practical. It would have to be something with pur-" And she stammered as he began a bit of an onslaught, this convincing he'd been speaking of, his hands gripping at hips and his mouth finding work outside of words. "Purpose." Games never staid games with Witchers, he'd make it a challenge. Keeping lucid thoughts was always harder when Geralt was within her thighs.

"The bath threw me for a loop. I truly don't know where you lie with . . . others." She sighed a somehow relaxed yet frustrated sigh when Geralt came up for air and an answer.  
"You don't like it." He didn't want to dwell on this, especially not now. Yes Geralt did have a streak of exhibition about him but he could tell that Anima did not find the same thrill in it.  
"I'd be willing to try Geralt." She hadn't liked it before, with others but Geralt was always attentive and caring, she trusted it'd be no different with spectators.  
"I like you most when you get lost in it Anima, when I have you openly pleased with me. Others would hold your attention." He wanted her pleased now, wanted a place for all his energy. He let himself glide into her, felt her heat hold him.  
"So something that would get me lost. . . Geralt!" He had pulled them up to a seated position, pulling her deep onto him, hands heavy and holding at her shoulders in a way he knew her to curl under.  
"Hmm." She was getting closer, both in her guesses and in her thrusts, they were wonderfully eager, chasing him, wanting him. He let a palm ride up from her core, up her chest, her throat, holding at her chin, a finger found it's way to her lips. She kissed, then sucked gently at it.  
"Geralt." It sounded even more heady mumbling over fingers.  
"Again." His ears preened. As always he asked and she answered the best she could.  
"Mmm." Her moan ran right over the fingers at her tongue, he could feel it in his flesh before she pulled away. "Geralt." And there was a bit of a pant there. "I think I know." Anima smiled, the same knowing smile of the ever running tab of everyone's drink.  
"I don't want you to think Anima just. . ." He was motion personified, they were up, he was standing, then pinning, up against the door just deeper, harder, more, her legs up at his shoulders. He could see her eyes begin to flutter and fill, getting there, getting gone. He could hear it, how her throat tightened and viced around them, around the moans he wanted out and free. "Let me . . ." He was kissing at her throat trying to coax them out of her. "I want to hear you Anima. You . . . let me. . . " And Geralt was losing himself, dizzy again but it didn't bristle, he didn't need firm footing, he didn't need anything because he had her, she needed him.  
"Not thinking." And her words were short and high and groaning. "Lost in it." And she had nails dug in, wanting him, keeping him. "You want me full." And Geralt had all but forgot about Anima's guessing game but she hadn't and those words sent a full shiver through him.  
"Not . . . not others Anima." He wouldn't share her, she didn't want him to share, she wanted him and only him, for him to keep her safe and happy. He'd promise, swear and up and down. "Just us I want to hear you just . . ."  
"Full." And she said it again, and his bones began to burn and melt. What was she saying, getting at? And why was he sure that's exactly what he wanted? "As amazing as you are Geralt. As good to me as you can be you still are only one and if not others then it would have to be objects. There's no other answer." He had been so focused on the sound of her, the feel of her, the words only half reached him.  
"Huh?" He didn't know what she said, but they had been the right words he was sure, they always were.  
"Toys." It was a warm breathy chuckle, and tingling that had become burning had him swelling. "You want me full and pleased and lost in it, loud and loving. But I wouldn't be lost now would I?" She didn't get a response right away, he could feel her grow tight and he was after her release, wanted it terribly wanted her to quench him for he was surely on fire. "Geralt?" The call of his name could lift him from anywhere, and this wasn't a jarring push or pluck, she had him, he wasn't going alone, he was going with her, somewhere, anywhere.  
"Anywhere Anima." His voice was deep and nearly foreign to himself as he thought outloud. "Find you anywhere. Let me find you, let me have you?"  
"Please Geralt." And she was as taut as anatomy would allow, arching all of her self at him, on him, over him. "Please Geralt." He didn't have to ask again, she was already answering him, needing him desperately.  
"I don't-"  
"You do Geralt. Find me, have me, deserve to be safe and happy." She could read minds, she had to. He groaned, long and hungry and nearly feral but he didn't have to chide and rest, he could ride out all his energy, she wanted it, needed it, took it and mixed it seamlessly with her own as they released.

"You said I could name the stakes."  
"What?" She was limp, laying all parts drunken satiated dead weight on his chest once back on the bed. She didn't even open her eyes, breathing the question into him.  
"If I got you there by the end of the week." Geralt was playing listlessly with her hair, any remaining energy winding out in the task. He wouldn't say it again, speak directly of it. He had one last challenge from winter and he was nothing if not a completionist.  
"Sure." Anima mumbled again, he could have whatever he wanted for getting them wherever they were going. She had no doubt he could, would, even if she wasn't really following the conversation, more so listening to his heartbeat slow.  
"If I do you'll ask one more time . . . one last time but not again." This had to stop.  
"Ask what now?" Rarely did he tell her not to say something and when he did there was normally some misguided forlorn reason to it. "Ask what you want? I didn't mean . . . no I meant to pry but . . . prying is good sometimes Geralt." She wouldn't pretend that she'd give that up anytime soon.  
"Not that you can . . . pry or try . . . lick jam off me for all I care." Now he was a bit curious. "This is the third time you've asked Anima. You've asked me to think long and hard about it. I don't like repeating myself, I can't make you believe me but I can win your word this next time to be the last."  
"Last time what?"  
"If I want to love you. You believe that I do, but you constantly think I . . . I don't know you've tricked me or that I don't understand that it . . . you . . . are complicated. I do not make decisions haphazardly Anima."  
"Love isn't a decision Geralt it's a feeling and I do trick people's feelings I do . . . make them complicated it's what I do it's who I am! I'll never be sure that I haven't won your favor . . . by hook or by crook. I don't want to be cruel."  
"I'm fine with either. Hook or crook." Geralt held her tight to his chest. "Does that not count for something? That I want this . . . feeling . . . I want you whichever way I've gained you? If you tricked me it's . . . I've decided long ago I don't mind that you've done so, I don't find it cruel. I find the questioning cruel . . . and redundant."  
"That's circular logic." It was Anima's turn to be unswayed  
"That we can circle till we're both dizzy dumb and dead or you can ask me one last time tomorrow and have that be . . . enough."  
"I . . . " Eskel's words bit at the back of her brain.  
_'You've never met a witcher you couldn't conquer.'_  
"I had hoped you would've picked something a bit more fun but I did say you named the stakes . . . I can worry and trust I suppose." The question would never go away but if it would never shake what was the point is agitating it in the first place? It would just have to be something she lived with.  
"Hmm." He could feel her squirm slightly, any comfort gained being overcome with guilt or concern. A mountain indeed, a challenge for sure, but he could bring them there, manage the climb, he could find words that she needed to hear couldn't he? Not anything for her, not everything just . . . something, something just for her.


	16. irrational paths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fucking mountain they've been going on and on about.

There was a knocking at the door, which by the scent of the person on the other side was surprising. “Lambert?” Geralt was hesitant to believe an old dog had learned new tricks. Anima was still asleep beside him, and a uncharacteristically deep sleep at that, he crept slowly out of the bed hoping to let her stay there. This led the knocking to quickly grow louder and impatient. "Quiet.” Geralt was missing the outdoors, missing having no door to bother at. “What?”  
“Mad when I don’t knock, mad when I knock. There’s no pleasing you people.” But Lambert didn’t look angry, he looked anxious.  
“I . . . Is everything . . .” Hmm anxious was an off-putting look for any witcher to have and Geralt wasn’t quite sure how to approach. “What do you need Lambert?”  
“I’m . . . . She’s not a slut alright?” Lambert seemed equally unsure of exactly what he was trying to do. “Sluts do it for sport she . . . I mean she got paid for it so that’s efficient.“  
“Are you . . . apologizing?” Too many new tricks. Geralt held the back of his hand up to Lambert’s forehead, it was beyond unlikely Lambert was running a fever but something must’ve been wrong.  
“He’s worried you’ll leave mad and ghost the wolves again.” Anima could be heard from under the blanket she’d pulled over her face.  
“It’d be your fault!” This sounded more like the resentful witcher they all knew and loved.  
“Yes Yes the world is my fault so I’ve heard. If I concede will you shout less?” Anima might not have gotten drunk but she did get hung over.  
“If you leave him. If you’re a bigger idiot than I thought and you think you can do better, find a human . . . . The fucker will still blame me though!” To answer her question, no Lambert would not shout less.  
“Firstly quiet down.” Geralt was not nearly as hungover as Anima but still Lambert’s booming voice was not the most welcoming sound first thing in the morning. “Second who said anything about leaving?” Had they been that loud? They had been drunk but he didn’t remember shouting.  
“The bard! Says this happens once every couple of months, she gets extra sensitive and that woe is me look on her face and then she threatens to leave you. I don’t know what hormonal bullshit-“  
“Stop, your compassion is smothering me.” Anima’s face rose from the covers. “It’s not hormones you dolt! My hormones are . . . even to a fault.” She reminded him with a bit of bite that she was not your average biological human.  
“Wait.” And Geralt turned around. Was it true? Was it always near the end of a season, when for one reason or another she’d pull back, lose all her coy confidence that they were meant to be together? She would start throwing out reasons he deserved better, didn’t want her love, was being stifled by her. A sinking feeling was hitting his gut. “Is it an empath thing? Is it seasonal?” His mind went to lunar cycles or temperature change having a bearing on her ability and moods.  
“No.” And she paused as if to consider it a beat longer but then shook her head. “I mean not that I know of . . . it’s a me thing . . . the season part surely.” She didn’t exactly have a forum of empaths to poll what was and was not normal for empaths. She had Fredrick’s books and her instincts, for most instances that was enough.  
“Isn’t it always?” Lambert rolled his eyes.  
“Not. Now. Lambert.” Geralt had his hands walling the doorframe. While he didn’t bite Lambert’s head off as he had when pulled from his relaxed state, his words came off as possibly more threatening.  
“Don’t snarl at me. Are we . . .”  
“He won’t ghost the wolves Lambert. He will be back next winter I promise.” That was a hell of a statement, there was no sure things, no guarantees, how could she be so confident about here but not about them?  
“And you?”  
“What about me? Thanks for saying I’m not a slut just a hormonal idiot?” She did have enough in her to smile as she answered. Geralt might not have much in the sense of humor when it came to her theoretical honor, but Anima was nearly impossible to offend.  
“Will you be back to grace us with your presence next winter?” Lambert could be funny, sometimes, if you just listened to his words and didn’t stare into his rude leaning face.  
“She will . . . if she wants to.” And Geralt’s voice hadn’t lost any degree of warning.  
“G . . . fine.” Lambert backed away, knowing he wasn’t welcomed from the start and any he had gained had been over staid.

  
“So?” Geralt would try, Anima’s sos always pried at the right angel. He watched as her shoulders curled, her lips pursed, she was frustrated. “You . . . feel it coming on? The . . . need to push me away?”  
“I get a bit . . . sad? Every once and a while. You solved that riddle months ago . . . too long without an Inn and I get . . . . insecure. It’s not a good look.” Sad and insecure weren’t exactly the right words, but she didn’t have a basic phrase for the feeling, and she knew Geralt wasn’t looking for an empath’s breakdown of emotional nuance. “Nothing I can’t manage or bury once adjusted. I try to keep it-“  
“Why?” He could hear how she sped those words out, trying to dodge just that question.  
“Why what? Why do I get sad? I just like knowing what to do with myself, that I’m making the right choices and when there are big shifts in variables . . . . maybe sad isn’t right . . . unwilling to force myself calm, less controlled.” She hadn’t been faster than the witcher but if all winter was an example, she had no room to be surprised.  
“Force yourself . . . it does matter.” He watched as her face just set, she didn’t wish to elaborate any further. “Why do you think you have to bury it? Inside does not make it . . . go away Anima, it festers, that’s not healthy. If you let me know from the beginning . . . when you start feeling that way I can-“  
“Stop everything you’re doing to find a fucking Inn Geralt? We’ve been through this, that’s impractical. What other options are there? Give me space? Leave me alone?” Beyond not wanting to talk about it she seemed riled, spooked.  
“No. . . . I mean if you needed space.” He scratched the back of his head. He knew she had issues with control, a fear of being left, he hadn’t though the two so connected. “I wouldn’t leave you Anima . . . . because you were sad.”  
“The goal is to not have you notice I’m sad Geralt I thought we just established that. I have a dismal success rate that’s clear to . . . even fucking Lambert now, that I can’t keep a lid on it, but I was trying my hardest.” It was early morning and she was already exhausted.  
“Hmm.” Facts were where his skills lied so he tried using deductive reasoning to pull any extra information from her evasive answers. “You thought if . . . . when I noticed I would leave you? You were trying to get ahead of it?” She feared being left more than anything, perhaps she felt if she was at the helm the blow would hurt less, she believed in the lesser evil.  
“More or less. You make it sound a bit more intentional than it was . . . my rational mind knows . . . that you love me Geralt, is confident about our relationship. This sadness isn’t rational.” Anima hadn’t marked it on her day planner to let her insecurities swallow her. It just crept up on her, little things or huge calamities either chipped or bludgeoned at her resolve and eventually it added up till she could remain coy at all cost no longer. “I trick myself into thinking if I get away . . . ahead of it, once I’m better and more reasonable you might take me back. Even that tactic is irrational I know. I just . . . wanted to avoid this-“  
“What? Talking about your feelings? Hmm. Anima I know I’m not-“  
“No! Now you’re going to be acutely aware and extra cautious every time the trees change color and that’s-“  
“I am already acutely aware and extra cautious, of everything. It’s you and the bard that go flying by the seat of your pants.” Geralt retorted as he tried to form the right words for her. “But yes I’ll likely look at you with more scrutiny, but you brought that on yourself, it’s not a punishment or a chore. I just don’t pick up on emotional cues as easily as you do. Especially when they’re hidden under smoke screens deliberate or otherwise. I’ll do it so I can be patient . . . like you are . . . with me . . . all the time.” Had she not painstakingly studied him to get a beat on his bearings, to help him balance what was rational and not in his logic driven mind. He had been at odds with himself, at odds with the world, for years and she had, because she loved him, taken the time and care to level the odds. “I shouldn’t have told you not to ask. I’m sorry, I take it back.” It didn’t matter that it was redundant, or even that now he knew there was a direct build behind it that the question could be avoided more than likely. She had a feeling, a strong crushing lonely feeling and he had told her to stop because it bothered him, claimed her right to feel as a prize to a stupid bet.  
“Don’t be sorry Geralt, it’s fine. I understand. It must feel like you’ve done something wrong, the constant questioning. You’re not doing anything wrong. You are doing everything possible, bordering on impossible to be the best person you can be and I-“ Did she believe his feelings had value and her’s didn’t? Geralt felt cold to his core as another comparison came to mind. Witchers shouldn’t want, was her mantra was her mantra that empaths shouldn’t feel? That the spontaneous emotions she had been so quick to praise Geralt for giving her were something to be leery or looked down on? Had he missed this somehow? For so long? For years?  
“It’s not fine that you think you should only feel ways that are pleasant to me.” Geralt was stepping back from her. He had promised, a man of his word, to be good to her, this wasn’t good it was torture.  
“Not only ways that are pleasant but . . . lets go with it. Everyone wants to feels pleasant all the time, to everyone! I have the ability to do so and for some masochistic . . . or sadistic reasoning that is beyond me-“ She talked so freely about how emotions were her whole deal, it was easy to forget that came with a catalyst, she viewed them something akin to a weapon or a formula, not something organic. Empaths and witchers could share in the mythos that they didn’t feel, but it simply wasn’t the case.  
“Want and fear not to are two different things. You are not stone Anima.” Geralt looked at her wide eyed, concerned Anima had fully convinced herself that her organic emotions were wrong . . . or dangerous. He was not the only one who feigned relaxation out of fear the world would curse them further.  
“No I’m glass.” It was the same, different titles, differently abilities but the results were interchangeable. The same way the wolves knew and had a habit for reminding exactly how a witcher should be, the same went for Anima and empaths. How out of sorts and possessive Geralt got when something threatened to take her from him. When his attempts to protect her weren’t enough, he felt a failure, weak and unworthy. When her emotions got unruly or unhelpful, she felt expendable, endangering and at the will of the wind. They were both victims of a ever churning cycle of not enough, not what should be. He always feared losing her most when he eased on his witcher’s strength, she was a knower of all wants and needs and no one wanted a sad companion.

  
“Get dressed.” He hadn’t noticed because their cycles worked against each other, they were two sides to the same coin. When she got to feeling in a way that was either too natural or too irrational, he had gone into frenzies all his own, buried his head on how he should have been stronger, that he had messed up somehow to leave her so vulnerable. Luck had it, that self-loathing worked both ways. They would crash into each other only to default back to what made sense, what they were sure the other could, should, rely on them for.  
“Geralt . . . .” She knew a sorry wasn’t something that fit well here, had seen how swimmingly Lambert’s hard gone. “What if . . . and this me trying to be practical . . . not seasonal blues talking . . . this is repetitive and maddening, what if this something . . . . we cannot fix. What if this is a cruel joke? What if we are close . . . . but not exactly good for one another? In the long run.”  
“Pants.”  
“I’m sorry?” This conversation was gravely serious but the way Geralt so sencerily and dead pan threw out that word defied Anima to not let out a crushed little laugh.  
“When I said get dressed I meant put on some pants.” He needed time to think, this was the real question, not one simply born from their ever plentiful depths of self-doubt. This was a question that he needed all of him to answer, facts, preferences, strength, softness. Not a desperate aggressive plea to stay or promises of being good but a balanced answer as to how they could be sustainable. He could find that answer, but not in some off the cuff statement.  
“Pants it is.” Anima knew all the right questions but she also knew that she didn’t always give Geralt the time to find the right answers, she tended to ambush him with moral quandries and that wasn’t quite fair. She’d leave him to really have a chance to digest them this time.

  
“Jaskier I know it’s not noon but this is important!” Geralt’s palms both slammed down into the table Jaskier was trying to have an uneventful breakfast with Eskel on.  
“Till noon Geralt, you promised? And you are so very close! What’s so important? What simply cannot wait till after noon?” Jaskier let out a very here we go again sigh.  
“Why would you tell Lambert?”  
“Huh?” Jaskier didn’t remember telling Lambert shit.  
“About the seasons.”  
“Seasons?” Still nothing.  
“That Anima falls in on herself once a season. That’s none of his-“  
“Oh.” Jaskier looked . . . guilty, he looked up into Geralt’s heated gaze and felt he had in someway betrayed his best friend’s hard fought for trust.  
“Back off Geralt.” Eskel stood, if the previous night was any indication Geralt had been seething for hours and Eskel would not chance that trapped rage being taken out on Jaskier. “He didn’t mean anything by it.”  
“No he . . . . Geralt you’re right. While you two certainly don’t go through rough patches quietly, it isn’t any of Lambert’s business exactly. I . . . Geralt I’m only human, and humans need to vent . . . especially when they’re drunk.” Jaskier had the joy and the misfortune of traveling right beside Geralt and Anima, during their highs and lows and what was just now becoming glaringly repetitive to the couple he’d been shouting at them for years. Watching them both storm off to brood in their own unique ways normally left him alone to compose at camp, this was the first time he could discuss and at points complain to anyone else who knew them. “I’m sorry if my big mouth has made things worse Geralt, you’ll piece her back together just like you always do, like only you can-“  
“I piece . . .” Some of the scum of the continent feeling that had been sticking to him washed at the bard’s words. Maybe he hadn’t understood the depths of her dips but he had always steadied her, anchored her.  
“Well . . . what quest has she sent you on to prove your undying love this time? Is it that damn mountain?”  
“I don’t think he wants to talk about it Jaskier.” Eskel was unsure why the bard was goading Geralt, he could tell he was seeking a rise out of the white wolf but why?  
“He never wants to talk about it, to anyone other than Anima and only when it’s fully exploded. Seeing as we’re back at square one . . . again obviously something one of you is doing or saying is not enough. Perhaps an outside perspective is-“ That was the purpose of the goading, just enough insight into the root of the issue. Jaskier knew of love, Eskel let no detail go unseen, they could help if one of these closed off idiots would just allow anyone withing six feet of this relationship they were so protective and destructive of.  
 _‘Not enough.’_ And any calm Geralt had been clinging to sparked and flamed. “It’s a diversion Jaskier.” Geralt spoke through ground teeth as not enough blew at his eardrums. “So I won’t notice . . . or because I didn’t notice . . . and by the time it’s on me-“ This time Geralt did punch something, causing the table to splinter under his fist. “Fuck.” He was not balanced, he was trapped and under attack and thrashing.  
“Can I suggest something? Or would you prefer demolishing more of my furniture first?” Oh how Vesesmir missed his peace and quiet, but there were so few things he could teach his boys, they hardly needed him anymore, but when they did, he would be there with every tool he and the keep had at their disposal.

  
At least roach seemed happy, fluttering from the slow pace Geralt had set to the canter he allowed, the witcher wasn’t the only one with expendable energy and a wish for exploration. “The snow. What’s it about it you like so much?” Geralt spoke first, which was almost in itself a first.  
“Most? The sound. The airs got a different sound in the snow. And the crunch under your feet, can’t beat it. Second most calming sound I’ve ever heard.” She was almost a bit revlieved that Geralt wasn’t stampeding back into their conversation, but the anticipation did have her nerves in a vice.  
“Hmm.” This wasn’t a throw away humm of acknoweldgement, she may have been behind him in the saddle but she could see his face etched in that thinking witcher thoughts clear as anything.  
“What?”  
“See that comes easy to you . . . but not to me. You might hide your wants, but you know what they are, understand them. Not me. You know how you have to remind me from time to time it’s alright to want things . . . that I do want things?”  
“Vaugely rings a bell.”  
“I don’t want things because . . . wanting leads to losing. Some of the things I want I don’t . . . . understand why. Some I don’t even know that I do want until you help me through it. Some even still . . . even now . . . “ his mind wandered to wants she had pulled from him that he dared not think to hard on, having an inclination that wasn’t the point.  
“That’s what I do.” Anima nodded, something was off Geralt was rambling, he was many things, a rambler was not often one of them.  
“I get it. What I do can’t help you understand feelings-“  
“I understand feelings Geralt, just like you understand monsters.” Anima felt this was the beginning of something they’d hacked to death.  
“Can’t assure you it’s alright to feel. I’m not expert on emotion. I was made for something different. What I do is solve problems, normally by killing something. If I have to kill the fear you get when you feel . . . trust me to di it?” There was too much unsureness to this question. “It won’t always be pretty but I get results.” In stark contrast there was almost a confident scoff to the tail end of that sentence. It was as if Geralt was getting a feel for the words as they were coming out of his mouth.  
“Your wants don’t hurt me Geralt. I like when I see you’re able to get what you want, it’s right up there with fresh snow. My feelings, hurt you.” Was this the point of miscommunication? Was this the distinction he wasn’t seeing?

  
“I want you.” It was no new revelation but still his hands gripped at the reigns a bit tighter, he scoped the landscape for an ambush, He turned his face to make sure, she hadn’t somehow been wisked away or possessed. _‘Wanting leads to losing.’_ It had not been a pandering statement.  
“I know Geralt but-“  
“And having you has led to you hurting . . . more than once.”  
“ _You_ didn’t hurt me Geralt.” She’d beat this distinction into him if she had to.  
“You _feeling_ doesn’t hurt me Anima!” He pulled roach to a stop with a frustrated sigh. They were very much going in circles again. “You’re not . . . I want you to feel. Does that make sense? Make it easier?” Wanting was easier if he could rationalize someone else needed it of him, maybe feeling could be the same way. “Happy, sad. I don’t say things I don’t mean Anima. You can cry, I’ve told you that. Or yell. No I don’t like seeing you upset, yes I react to it poorly. I will go to great lengths to stop tears, I will do my best to avoid scolding, you threaten to tear people’s souls out of their noes Anima, convincingly. Despite how I will respond I want you to know you can feel that way.” A distinction did hit him but he was mid ramble and did not stop, getting Roach moving again. “Something I want, is to protect you from the whole fucking world . . . I can’t do that and that . . . You are a magnet for chaos.” He found his voice getting loud and almost pinched with anger, not at her for not understanding just at the sheer fact of it. “When I’m forced to face that I shut down or lash out. You have never told me I couldn’t want that . . . even though I’m no pleasure to be around when I’m beating myself up over the fact I can’t have it.” He let out another hefty sigh. “I said that I’d be good to you I didn’t just mean when things are good.” They had reached the cave they had cleared out earlier in the week.

  
Despite the fact that even in fresh snow he could walk nearly trackless, after dismounting them, he let his weight shift heavier and slower than normal. Smirking at the pleased sighs the sound of crunching snow brought and she could not repress. “I don’t know emotions backwards and forwards like you do but I know the compulsion to be best at what you’re best at. How doing anything outside of that feels like . . . a mistake.” To be honest leaving heavy tracks would normally bother him, make him feel lazy and of poor form but not in this instance, it made perfect sense, for her. “I want to keep you safe. And if you don’t feel safe to feel around me-“  
“My family.” In a similar pinched anger Anima let those words push out.  
“What?” They stopped at the entrance. _‘Shit’_ He had a plan, not a plan that he liked, but a plan and talking about family was not part of the plan he had rehearsed in his head.  
 _‘Just improvise.’_ That inner bard that gave such paradoxically simple yet impossible advice chirped.  
“I don’t remember who said it . . . I only seem to remember the worst of it now. Is that awful? Petty?”  
“Worst clings.” He understood, Geralt had saved countless people, towns, kingdoms even dispite his distaste for them. The faces he remembered though, who’s features never dimmed were those who had bested him, or those bested because he wasn’t enough. It wasn’t the understanding that was the problem, that gave panic to his plan. He wasn’t built for this, for feeling, for improvising, for words, a wolf can perch on hind legs but trying to hunt and move with any fluidity while doing so was near impossible.  
“I remember the words . . .” He snapped out of his efficiency concerns to do what he promised, to be patient. “What changed? In summer you were such a normal child . . . what changed?” Anima had an ugly sneer on her face.  
“Hmm.” She hadn’t just been penalized for feeling at the manor, it was what brought them to her doorstep in the first place. One season she was a salty child of Skeillige then something changed, the tides, the trees . . . her. There was a bit of a trigger to the whole changing seasons theory, tied to this loose memory, it was likely what made control harder round the ends. All those years back she had changed, become introspective and sensitive, maybe it had been coming into her premutated empath abilities, or hormones, or for no rhyme or reason at all she had just changed and it cost her absolutely everything.  
“it didn’t get better it got worse. Season by season it was worse, I was worse. Even though I felt more intune with people, they grew distant . . . detached.” Gods how she hated those words. “Leery or overwhelmed by how much I felt. It’s happening again Geralt, and only bad things will come of it. I’m getting worse, season by season . . . more-“  
“Bullshit.” Geralt heard her words curling into something too close to omen or prophesy and he’d have none of it. “Who said worse? Lambert? He’s an idiot, dense as he is loud, but you’ve grown on him. Up till now? Nothing’s grown on him since a bad rash right before his trials.” This took all the uglinesss out of Anima’s eyes, all the venom and distain, she smiled. This could work, his plan could still work if he just kept talking. “Anyone. And I mean anyone who tells you to . . . bury it or that you don’t deserve to feel however you chose Anima . . . I . . . . let me deal with them.” Geralt took her chin into his hand, it was a mix he was getting in stride with. He didn’t have to be entirely un witcher like, he could be as he was normally and still be patient, she didn’t need an empath she needed an anchor.

“It’s been a year now Anima, a better year. I haven’t said that in . . . I’ve never said that.” His sentenced somewhat petered off as he leaned into kiss her, only taking a soft note of how cold her lips felt. “Not boring, not less than I deserve, nor something I was forced to do against my will.” He laced his face round her neck, laying there heavy and holding. He fell silient for a few minutes, he was finding it hard to remain calm, images of those who would take her from him flooded his head, of moments she had tried to take herself and hide away from him, take the prospect of better years, his greatest missteps all flashed in front of his eyes. This was where they normally crashed, his body was bracing for impact but he had to open his mouth, he had to stick to the plan. “I don’t care what you were made for Anima so if this worse is in referene to omens or Nehalenia just . . . save your breath. Fuck your destiny. I sometimes wish you didn’t remember your family before Lyria cause honestly fuck them too. You have a proper family Anima, that adores you, two if you’d allow it. Do you feel alone Anima?” She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard Geralt’s tone switch so fluidly. “Do you feel worse now than you did before you left with me? Worse and less in control . . . are not the same. Trust me I don’t cater to that belief easily.” He looked at her cautiously but her smile hadn’t left it’s spot. He was straight down the middle between threatening and soothing with his most recent ramble, but she seemed to be finally responding to what he was saying not just denying it as illogical. This was better than just serviceable patience, he could see it in how her eyes were open in just some odd sense of fondness. His strengeth juxtaposed directly against what little softness he had was what she needed, that plus his heartbeat, he was built for this, to be her anchor.

  
“You cut me off every time I start but I’ll say it again Geralt. I love you more than anything. I won’t fight you on every front. This year has been better . . . neither of us are the imagining sort but what little I might have done never would compare. I’ll always-“ She opened her mouth to go on but Geralt had a plan, and if she spoke to much it was sure to derail.  
“Come on.” He took her hand in his and begain guiding them through the first chasm. “I cut you off Anima because the word after anything tends to be but. You know I find unnecesiary things bothersome. There is no but, I will do everything in my power to keep you loving me more than . . . .” It was a cheeky little pause.  
“I love you more than anything Geralt.” He let that sighed smiling sentence echo off the walls for a moment.  
“You’ve been up to your eyeballs in witchers for months now. Witchers who are infamous for having no use for the usual measure of emotions. How distant from us have you been feeling? Even when those emotions were not something wanted or needed?”  
“That . . .” Had Geralt learened how to debate her logic? When? How? This was alarming, indeering under different circumstances but akin to her stealing his blades and leading him stranded in a harpy nest, alarming.  
“Hmm.” He could hear it, a change in her voice. He had hit a vein, was bleeding some of the fear from her. “We don’t do change well Anima but you’ve been nothing if not helpful . . . appreciated . . . popular.” He added the last word a bit sourly.  
“I couldn’t reign it in though Geralt. I was, at critical points mind you, too much.”  
“Perhaps, but we’re a family that always do too much rather than not enough. Better to run over than out. All of us have our excesses, Me, Jaskier, Lambert, even Eskel and Ves have traits that lean crooked but Lambert’s hot head counteracts Eskel’s desire to see things play out to the end. Anima you and I are best at what we do, best for each other because we balance each other out. That only works if you trust me to balance you, otherwise it’s just you being crushed under my weight.” Anima took his hand, pushing up his glove jokingly searching for penned out words. No this was him, his words, she could hear them, feel them warm at parts that were long and purposefully iced over as they made another turn, how they did not get lost was beyond Anima.  
“I was . . . . concerned bringing you to Kaer Morhen, for many reasons. I was worried you’d dislike them, but you don’t, worried they’d not be willing to give you a chance, but you are nothing if not deceptively persistent.”  
“Deceptively?”  
“Lidrie couldn’t understand it, I don’t think the rest have caught on. You concede, often, but you’re very much the war not the battle type Anima. A handful of concessions mean nothing other than a false sense of security, you strike-“  
“I don’t aim to conqur people Geralt!”  
“Conquer no, you don’t have the blade skills for that. You infiltrate. Sometimes to attack and sometimes to harbor. Off point.”  
“What **is** the point?”  
“We want you to be a part of our family Anima. A family that does not turn it’s back on anyone, even if they change, I left them for years Anima but when I came back that was . . . seamlessly welcomed.”  
“You came back because you thought they had more or less abducted me from Lyria. Two minutes in the gate you and Lambert beat each other black and blue.” Anima’s observation was met with a shrug that read to the tune of _seamlessly welcomed_. Shrugs were normally one of the many ways Geralt bookened a conversation but feeding into that off feeling Anima had, Geralt continued talking.

  
“Only as strong as our weakest link though.”  
“Me.” It would be easiest for an outsider to pin Jaskier as the odd man out. A human, not even one with a particular flair for heroics but Jaskier was consistent as well as confident when it came to his strengths and weaknesses and played to them beautifully. He had tucked his way into Geratl’s life not without resistance but in step with it, because he understood the give and take a healthy relationship required. Jaskier took inspiration from all interactions, didn’t lament and scorn why he couldn’t do it alone. The bard knew better than any that singing alone was manageable, sometimes profitable and frequently enjoyable but to get a crowd to sing aling with you made a performance something that stuck.  
“You’ve grown a lot this last year, tethers and mutagens aside. You found your calling with potions, you and your cleaver are . . . . dangerous” The fact that who they were dangerous against, the person she was swinging at or herself depended greatly on the circumstance was neither here nor there. “It’s not a matter of being weak physically or mentaly. You’re growing road sturdy day by day. It’s the link itself that’s weak Anima. You still after everything, don’t trust us, me . . . yourself . . . anyone.”  
“I do trust you Geralt that’s hardly the issue.”

  
“That has always _been_ the issue. Most people fear me yet trust my word, you do neither.” He stood frozen for a moment, turning towards her, letting his hand take a firm root at the base of her neck. His eyes were studying her, nearly seering her, the balance he had briefly made look effortless now look pained, like it hurt his very being. Again they were too similar, he understood, the fear of letting anyone in too close, worried what they would take with them if they left, take from someone who had so little that they could call themselves. He realized that standing would just lead to more talking and he was growing spent so his hand left her neck and found her hand again, walking them along. “You think you have to keep even as an arrow . . . wobble just a bit and you don’t trust me not to flinch.” He was not skilled at metaphors but he was improvising and that took some . . . fluff. “I don’t flinch Anima.”  
“I . . .” She knew this must’ve been uncomfortable for Geralt to say, she could see it in the way his shoulders wouldn’t quite lose their ridgidness, how his head kept shooting down to his feet, but uncomfortable doesn’t always mean worth it. “You can say it and I can hear it Geralt but we’ve been here before. Exactly here, Ben Ard, Temeria, Sodden, the same damn-“  
“Close your eyes.” He had gotten them far enough, they were at the exit of the cave.  
“Geralt I do not want to close my eyes.” Anima knew this could be very well feeding into his point about trust issues but this wasn’t all irrational anxiety, there was a small dose of practicality. If she stepped wrong, hit a loose patch of snow as they ascended it could be good ole blood and guts peril, she would not scale a mountain blind.  
“Just for a moment. You trust me don’t you Hardly an issue?” He teased again, she seemed more thrown off by these and the small anecdotes about his family than any of his hardened grumbles, which were admittedly far more predictable.  
“I . . . . Geralt what is . . . this?” She geastured to the all of him. “Is this what winter does to you? When the whole world isn’t poking you in the chest?”  
“Eyes.” He could see this as the stall that it was. “Don’t worry it’s temporary. I’ll tell you at the top. Does this bother you? I’ve been told my silent brooding is where my charm lies.”  
“Your charm doesn’t lay anywhere Geralt. You don’t lay, you charge.”  
“My charm charges . . . you’ve been reading Jaskier’s discard pile.” Geralt snorted.  
“So I’m no poet doesn’t make it less true.” She could see impatience build as Geralt’s arms croseed. “Fine. Fine.” She couldn’t stall much longer without outright annoying Geralt. “Alright they’re closed. Now what?”  
“Count to . . . twenty” He was estimating, not giving himself much wiggle room. “Then open them.”  
“I do not . . . alright.” She did trust him, she truly did, it was herself, her own footing she didn’t trust, mid stride was what made her effective but it left little to no room for self doubt. “Geralt?”  
“Go on.”

  
“Geralt?” He was nowhere to be found, no tracks, no signs, no hide nor hair of the witcher was clear to her upon opening her eyes. “Geralt this isn’t funny.” She could feel adrenilin soar and plummet.  
“I don’t know how to joke.” His voice wasn’t too far off but by no means was it comfortably close.  
“Geralt what . . . can you please come out?” She grew nervous, Geralt was about as much for games as he was for jokes.  
“I’ll . . . Anima . . . just don’t start picking at your wrist already.” He could still see her and that was comforting but that didn’t give her any bearings to where he was. She had seen him squint miles into focus, he could be anywhere. “I know your sense of direction isn’t-“  
“I won’t be able to find my way back Geralt I . . .” She closed her eyes again, calming herself down, this was what she lothed, the irrational fear. “What is the point of this Geralt? I don’t think you intend to leave me here to freeze to death.” She was arguing a bit against herself because while it was highly improbbible it still was possible.  
“I don’t. I won’t let any-“ He was sounding farther and farther away.  
“But you are leaving?’  
“Hiking.”  
“Hiking?” her mind was still so rattled it took her a moment to really think on the word.  
“To the top of the mountain. It won’t come to you. Your feet Anima . . . one foot infront of the other. I won’t let you get lost.” He was sounding half annoyed by her lack of movment and half amused by how dumbstruck she was.  
“I do not like this trust exercise Geralt.” Her steps were heavy and crunchy which despite her nerves still made her smile as she met him tone for tone. The air was quiet after that, an hour maybe too, Anima focused on the snow, let that be a small reprieve from the nagging irrational fear, the silence, the fact that she was, for all intensive purposes, more alone than she’d been in neigh on two decades.

  
“Anima?”  
“Geralt? Are you . . . snow dusted in a circle as she spun. “Behind me?” She still couldn’t see him but irrational fear had been precariously close to irrational panic, she’d take the sound of his voice.  
“There’s nowhere to sit up ahead.”  
“Sit?” Two things came to mind. “How slow am I that you’ve gone up ahead and behind me?”  
“You’re not terribly slow. I’m just faster.” It was half gloating, half consoling.  
“You have a question.” Geralt didn’t need a breather, he was sitting because that had been her rule since the very beginning, her pet peeve since day one. She hated being interrogated from above, would always ask him to sit.  
“I’ve seen you get upset before.” The distinction or lack there of he had noticed earlier, it hadn’t left his head. “You’ve been upset with _me_ before. So it’s not all unpleasant emotions . . . what’s different about these emotions you’ve been hiding?”  
“They have no use.”  
“Emotions are nonsense in any shade, what makes one more useful than another?” He knew he should probably stop referring to emotions as nonsense but old habits die hard.  
“I feel nearly the same as everyone else, it’s just I have more choice in the matter. If you’ve ever seen me angry or upset it’s because I’ve reasoned those emotions have merit. Can be useful, to me, you, Jaskier, someone . . . anyone! Some time it’s practical for whatever battle of grey morality we’ve stumbled into. They have a purpose for being.”  
“But not these feelings.” He was getting a headache, empaths were difficult, she was difficult.  
“No. They just . . . are. Just come and have no other purpose than to make me hesitate or doubt . . . feel fear or sadness. What the use in that?”  
"I have a use for them.”  
“Geralt no you don’t.” It was her turn to give an exhausted sigh, she did not enjoy being coddled from a distance.  
“To get rid of them before they take you from me.”  
“That’s not a use that’s a response.” He had gotten better at words but semantics would always tip to her favor.  
“Hour or so more.” He sounded a bit annoyed by how she dug in her heels again but he didn’t let the silence bowl right back in, resuming once she started walking.

  
“What did you notice about me thise last couple of days?”  
“Notice? Your ears are sensitive in a way I hadn’t fathomed?”  
“Besides that.” She could hear the almost embarrassed smile in his voice.  
“You don’t like resting . . . it stresses you out.”  
“The resting was fine I-“  
“You do know that fine and bothered are not mutualy exclusive right?”  
“I wasn’t bothered by the rest itself. I could . . . I liked how close you were, I liked being allowed close so openly. It’s just when someone else burst in, when I was focused, resting on you it disoriented me. I went straight to needing to fight, needing to protect us.”  
“From Jaskier?”  
“Irrational. For every Jaskier there’s a Lidrie, every lambert there’s a Kolgrim. Even when I rest without you or Jaskier, even alone-“ He had clearly seen her stop dead in surprise, but he misinterpreted the source of the surprise. “I do know how to function outside of your and his meddling. I ate slept and dressed myself before you two came along.” It wasn’t that he rested alone that shocked her. It was that even alone Geralt still rested on edge, the white wolf was always sitting jaw clenched. “I was in some shitty bathouse, some lost sod kicks his way in like he’s storming a castle. I nearly knocked his head clean off his shoulders with a potted plant. For every lost sod there’s the bandits circling camp, or some drunk with heavy fisted opinions on withcers. So I don’t put pause to emotions often but I think . . . heavily. Irrational thoughts don’t come from nothing.”  
“You have irrational thoughts, I have irrational feelings what matters isn’t where they grow from it’s how they burn.”  
“Hmm.” He was spent, he had few words left and still another half an hour more. “I’ll meet you at the top Anima.

  
“I . . .” Anima took a leveling breath. She had finally pushed hard enough, pushed him away. _‘What the fuck is my end game here?’_ She wasn’t entirely sure why she was aching against something she viewed as sane. “Because Anima you’re in love. . . idiot.” She muttered at herself. She could see Thill’s big doe eyes fluttering in glee at the fact of the matter. The image of her friend, that ever light hearted beacon of optimism helped little as she truged shin deed through snow, less so when she hit a soft patch and fell face forward. “I push him away when he’s too close. Get him at arm’s length and go weak in the knees missing him.” She pushed herself up, shaking the snow from her hair. “make up your damn mind.” As she realized how liberaly she was talking to herself she wondered if he was still there, getting a good laugh at her. “Geralt?” Nothing. “Fair.” She continued her outward thinking. “I wouldn’t want to be trapped on a mountain with a crazy woman. Yet-“ She threw her hands up into the air. “ Here I am. Freezing my poor nose off. Heartbroken of ny own devices because I can’t just . . . He said it clear as day not just when things are good, he understands irrational . . . I have no reason not to believe him. He trusts me with . . . so much and I can’t give him the same. He’d say anything, do anything . . . he says that too. He shouldn’t have to-“ It had gone past muttering and self monologuing, it was avalanching under those useless emotions. “Anima shut up.” And she willed herself silent, only realizing then that she had been speaking out loud to drown out the far-reaching emptiness, stumbling again before continuing up. ‘ _You don’t regret what brought you here. Wouldn’t change it for anything. You’re being a bit much, he’ll be at the top of the mountain just like he said he would and that’s not too far off.’_ When she got there the view was lovely, the snow untouched, the sun at just the right angle to make the landscape shimmer but not glare up and blind. It was just as she had hoped, met every expectation except for one. Geralt wasn’t there.  
“Right.” Anima knew he’d come back for her eventually, if not him maybe send Eskel or gods forbid Lambert to come rescue her from hypothermia, but he had said he’d meet her at the top of the mountain and he wasn’t there, she had trusted and it had left her . . . alone. “No use standing here like an complete fool.” She decided it far more tactful to just lay out, let the cold numb at her from everyside, it was a familiar feeling, soothing but in a dark way. She was motionless for what could have been hours till she started to feel tears at the corners of her eyes. “Well this was . . . Something.” Her chest tightened, she felt hurt, devastated, left.

  
“Can I come out now?” He sounded angry and impatient.  
“Geralt?”  
“Anima stand up. Contrary to what jaskier would have you believe being dramatic is not worth losing a limb over.” So he could still see her? After craining her head up to look side to side, she did finally shamble to her feet.  
“Where the fuck are you?” She could just as easily have focused in on his heartbeat but there had to be a method to this madness and she wanted to hear that from his own lips.  
“From the left or the right?”  
“Is this a . . . riddle?” She was frustrated and flustered, she had already gone through her winter quota of riddles.  
“It’s a question. I said I’d meet you at the top of the mountain. Would you prefer I came up from the left or the right?”  
“Geralt I really don’t fucking care which side you come from. I grew out of hide and seek long ago.”  
“Left or right?” A witcher’s resolve was not something to test, this could quite literally go on forever.  
“Left!” And she turned to herleft waiting for him to materialize out of thin air. Then it hit her ear, crunching snow, from behind, the right side of the mountain, heavy purposeful footsteps. She turned and there he was, he looked as angry and uncomfortable as he had sounded, nearly caged. but outside of that his face was nearly blank. “What?” She ran her hand through her hair, trying to come down, trying to control herself. “What lesson am I very clearly supposed to be learning here?” He stood there, looking at her as if anyone else was going to be waiting for him. “Geralt?” And he finally held her gaze for a moment.  
“It wouldn’t have been any better from the left.” He started approaching her slowly, cautiously.  
“Then why ask?”  
“Same reason you ask hook or crook. The outcome’s the same, still two sides of a mountain. At least I hope that no matter which way I came up this is still how you pictured it . . . wanted it . . . the two of us.” But these words seemed not exactly Geralt’s or maybe something like a half baked after thought. By the time he was in reach of her, he had pulled her close to his chest fingers firmly rooted In her hair. “You’re cold.” He was practically steaming his breath over her.  
“Well it is winter and we are ontop of a mountain.” Anima didn’t have a lot of warm fuzzy answers for him, plenty of questions but she had spent hours walking up a mountain, alone, she was not in the best of moods.  
“You were crying.”  
“I was alone . . . just as I protested for.” Her mood was not Geralt’s fault though.  
“You tripped.”  
“You saw that?”  
“Twice.” Just for confirmation’s sake.  
“Well no one can ever claim you are not observant.”  
“But I don’t like to observe Anima, that does nothing but irritate me. I prefer to act, to fix things. I wanted to protect you, from the cold, from your tears, your-“  
“My feet?”  
“Hmm.” He nodded running the side of his face over the top of her head, almost assuring himself she was there in one piece. “To not do those things, when I knew I could knotted me. Imagine how I feel when I know I can’t?” A hand bunched into the bulk of her cloak. “All stupid . . . annoying ideas.”  
“huh?”  
“Said I needed to let you face your fear even though it feeds my own.”  
“Who said that? Your own what? Fear?” She was having a hard time keeping up.  
“You missed quite the brainstorming session Anima, I do not think I’ll ask for advice again. I don’t think I asked for advice this time.” And this stream of consciousness thing was making a bit more sense but not much. Had Jaskier used the just tell her how you feel line that humans loved so much? “I know you fear being left. I fear . . . losing you. So you alone . . . both of us dread it to the point it’s grown a mind of it’s own. But in the end, you were alone-“  
“Sort of.”  
“Enough to cry. I’m not made of stone Anima. You didn’t die.”  
“No. I didn’t die Geralt. I may get dramatic when it comes to the power of emotions but even I don’t believe you can die of loneliness.”  
“Point is. It’s not as life or death as our irrational heads and hearts would have us believe.”  
“I am well aware of that Geralt.” Had this all been the most elaborate cardio intensive deffintition of the word irrational? She knew what it meant, understood he knew what it meant. Now they were being redundant within a redundancy.  
“Even so I didn’t like the feeling. I’d prefer to avoid it. If I can protect you I’d like to and if you don’t have to be alone I don’t see why you should.” Ok so maybe not a rehashing of the definition, there was a slight nuamce here, he was trying to explain that it was understandable to have those feelings despite knowing they were irrational.  
"Yes but-"  
"The use I have for them, your feelings, the nonsense ones, If I tackle them as they come, it's a molehill not a literal mountain I have to watch you trip up and sob."  
"You make it sound so pitiful."

"This is a night I had been promising for months, this was something that was supposed to be . . . I don't know . . . worthwhile, an incentive to return . . . romantic? This is . . . pitiful."  
"You were romantic in your own way." Anima smiled up at him.  
"How's that?"  
"Do you know how many stories you've told me about yourself on our way up here?"  
"That's not romantic that was . . . desperation." Or improvising depending on your view of it.  
"Have you seen a romantic geasture that hasn't looked a teency bit desperate?"  
"Hmm." She wasn't wrong, flowers and trinkets all seemed like flashy ploys that were quickly forgotten about and discarded, he should know, he found them on roadsides often enough  
If I hadn't been so melancholy I would have asked you to get louder for me."  
"Hmm." And that almost blush, the red just at the fold of his ears crept up.  
"Which leaves me with two questions."  
"Three."  
"Are we . . . bartering?"  
"Ask your questions Anima." He was finding holding her to not be enough, kissing at her forehead then down to the tip of her nose, brushing against it with his own, when he realized it was actually quite cold.  
"Firstly you said this . . ." Again she gestured to the all of him. "Was temporary and you'd explain at the top . . . which is where we are."  
"What was the second question?" There was nothing to distract or disoriented here, he was letting his tension leave him, let his senses rest on her.  
"So you're not-"  
"I will." It was clear he just wanted a little more time to not have to speak, to just breath.  
"My second question is if not our normal love laced misery what do you imagine a romantic night to be?"  
"Hmm."  
"I don't know the third question Geralt."  
"You do." He sounded . . . calm, finally.  
"Lets see-" But she was sushed by what might have been an intentional 'hmm' or just the sound of his bones easing in his chest, either was it buzzed straight into her.  
"I'll be right back." He lingered, holding her for a breath longer, before pulling away.  
"If I thought anyone could do your heartbeat justice I would be worried someone else is under a very convincing Geralt glamour spell."  
"And that's the _real_ problem." Geralt was sifting through a bag he had brought with him. "I've never had to convince someone that I do not shy away from a fight. That I prefer tackling issues myself. What have I done in my life to make you think I only take the path of least resistance?"  
"Nothing." She nodded almost sadly, he had a penchant for the hard way that was for sure. He heard it again, another properly placed strike, her fear could not parry him forever.  
"Here." And he tossed a bottle to her, it was old and ornate, down right dusty and more importantly sealed, filled with some blue liquid with flecks of silver in it.  
"Am I supposed drink it?"  
"I wouldn't suggest it. Do you know what it is?"  
"No."  
"Open it." And she did, if he was hoping for instant recognition, it did not come.  
"Geralt not all of us can smell each ingredient of a decotation just cause it's hit open air. All I smell is gross dwarven alcohol."  
"Hmm." He chuckled, as it was clear maybe he had forgotten that. "Scopolamine, Pentothal, Sodium Amytal-"  
"Is this for knocking a dragon clear on it's ass?"  
"No."  
"Then . . ." She thought through the other properties those ingredients held. "A truth serum."  
"There's no such thing." Geralt seemed to want to make that abunently clear. "It does make it hard to concentrate on lying though."  
"So a truth serum." She retorted flatly.  
"Hmm." He seemed to finally acquiesce. "Ves gave me-"  
"Did you . . . drug yourself you lunatic?" And her eyes grew wide. _'The rambling.'_ Was the only way Geralt could open up to personal flaws and feelings under the influence of enough sedatives to make a blue wale snore?"  
"No. It wouldn't work on a witcher anyway, I'd burn through it in . . . ten fifteen minutes tops. Not for lack of Jaskier's insistence, near lost his top guessing what it was I was hiding." He could still hear all the slanderous and debauched things the bard thought him capable of.  
"So . . . it is a truth serum, but you didn't take it . . . I give up where are we going with this?"  
"We did take it . . . years ago, part of training. . . an exercise in withstanding 'interogation' is what they said . . . torture was what it was." Geralt lamented with a bit of a snort.  
"That sounds . . . not great." Anima knew Geralt wasn't in search of compassion, he'd take it as pity and wall up in reflex.  
"Hmm."  
"Am I the torture in this scenario?"  
"What?" Geralt had gotten a bit apprehensive, he didn't like remembering and worse than that he didn't like recreating. "Not exactly." And while she couldn't reach out and give him compassion she could be open and attentive as he pulled her close to take it. she could let her fingers trace along any edge and corner of him she could find, nestle warmly at his collar bone, let him hold her a bit tighter than he normally would, she could let him take what he needed.  
"Not exactly torture." Anima chuckled. "I've been called worse."  
"It was meant to be a reminder."  
"Reminder of what? Actual torture? It could be worse?"  
"A time when I couldn't think before I spoke. It was painful then and it's painful now. The chance at being wrong, even with my words is not a luxury I can afford." He ground out some semblance of what was pacing in his head.  
"I don't expect you to be practically perfect in every way."  
"I do." Geralt growled. He wanted to give Anima a firm shake and explain it was the same thing as her wanting every emotion she felt to have use, but they had been down that road before, he had to stick to his plan. "I want to be. But clearly something of what I was saying . . . was getting stuck in my head . . . not making it to you. As you said, we've been here before, I've explained my intentions before, I know that you can trust me Anima, I know that I love you and I will put up with all sorts of irrational or burdensome things, I would withstand actual torture for you." He said it with the conviction of a man who had endured actual torture. "I've said that all before. So I needed to say the parts I had deemed not . . . important, cause clearly I had left you doubting. I now know that it's something I can't fix outright, but at least now I know it's not because I could've said or done more. I've done enough."  
"Geralt you didn't have to do that. If you had asked, hell I have tokd you what you do is enough." Anima spoke softly, running a hand down his cheek. He had tried to strip himself absolutely bare, leave absolutely everything on the line, till his head and soul were just out in his palms for her, in hopes that some part or piece was what she needed.  
"I needed it to be fact, gives me peace of mind. Do you know how hard what ifs are for me? Hypotheticals?"  
"Huh?"  
"Eskel and I were asked not to participate in drills at the keep because hypothetical was something I could not embrace and he chose to exploit."  
"Drills at the keep?" She knew the drills weren't pivotal to the point but she wanted another story and he smiled, willing to oblige her. "A mock siege or some other . . . scenarioed threat . . . mid day, early morning, dead of night. It was meant to remind us that we were never safe, to test what we would do when not the hunters but the hunted. Eskel would find high ground and watch everyone else get the shit beat out of them. When told that was cowardice or abandonment he told them it was tactical, he could study the moves of his enemy, as well as conserve energy till the fight was best his. It was logical which meant he wasn't wrong . . . but it somewhat defeated the purpose of the team exercise." Geralt grimaced as he remembered while the trainers hadn't gotten to him, the other trainees did not look so kindly to being left behind to die. Sadly that was a logical leason, they just didn't realize it yet, there was no pack to count on in the real world.  
"Sounds about right." Anima rarely asked questions when Geralt told stories of his past, she did not want to pry, she wanted just what he was comfortable sharing. "And you?"  
"I . . . If I'm being told to believe my home is under attack, my life is in danger, I'm going to fight as such. I can't . . . do it partially, holding in the back of my head it's not real. Either it is or it isn't. Sparring I understand, but a threat, if I'm being told it's a threat If I see a threat . . ."  
"Geralt did you . . ." She shouldn't pry.  
"I didn't kill anyone . . . Just was warned about drills after getting too close one too many times. Being warned of drills sort of defeats the purpose too. Eskel and I just . . . saw the world differently." He said as if that was both a wonderful sentiment and a handicap all in the same. "So this was hard."  
"Have I gone from not exactly torture to not exactly a threat Geralt?"  
"Hmm." He gave her an appreciative kiss, knowing she tailed it with his name just to balm him. "I was reminded of a time I couldn't think before I spoke, then asked to imagine it happened again."  
"So what if you had taken the truth serum? What if truth serum worked on witchers? What if your home was under attack? Your life in danger?"  
"Exactly." He heard her stifle a laugh.  
"That's funny how exactly?"  
"All I'm imagining is that dead fish stare you gave Jaskier as I'm sure he tried to convince you it was easy as anything to transport your mind to a different time and place, to get lost in . . . did he say the word fantasy?"  
"He did." Geralt smirked. It had been an arduous twenty minutes of 'but if you did' cuffed by 'but I didn't.'  
"So you spent this whole walk up here-"  
"Not thinking before I spoke . . . it is temporary . . . it is exhausting." Geralt sighed, between Anima's words he had been counting footsteps as to keep his mind from thinking. "I cannot . . . I know you think the stories and the-"  
"Geralt. Geralt calm down. We did not have fun getting here did we?"  
"No. We were miserable." He grumbled quickly to emphasize his lack of doubt.  
"Why would you think I'd ask you to do this again?" Anima tried to work to his practicality, to promise he didn't have to boldly proclaim every thought that came to mind, it was not a drill he'd be invited to repeat.  
"Hmm." He wasn't dense, he knew there was somewhere inbetween truth serum and impenetrable fortress and he was sure she'd prefer that be the place where his words laid. "You liked the stories."  
"I . . . liked you sharing with me sure. As with most your stories though you were in pain or peril or duress, that's not something-"  
"Worst clings." And he paused for a moment, finally allowing himself to think before he spoke. "There are good stories though. Perhaps we wouldn't be miserable if I told you some of those. . . Don't fish like Jaskier. My past is-"  
"I will not pester you for memories Geralt, but . . . like when you were showing me around the keep, you told me stories then, because you wanted to, not because an imaginary serum forced you to. That was nice. It can be a treat not an indulgence. If I was to think of a romantic night, maybe that would be a part of it." Geralt had gotten better at words, Jaskier was a smith of them but she seemed to always have just the right ones, stored away, just for him.  
"I thought you asked me to tell you of what I imagined a romantic night would be."  
"I did not mean to step on your toes by all means."  
"Hmm." He let his weight pull them down to the snow, his arms folded in around her back, his eyes closed as chin draped over her shoulder, and time drew long.  
"Geralt?" He was breathing as he did when he meditated.  
"How long will you let me just sit like this?" It sounded like an apology mixed with a legitimate question.  
"Till one of us dies of old age?" He was relaxed, right and truly relaxed.  
"That's quite a long time." He sounded half asleep all this not thinking had really drained him.  
"I mean you'll probably have to take a leak before then, but the allowance is there." She smiled.  
"Maybe Jaskier was right, It could've waited till after noon. Now we'll have to fill time before the sun goes down. I only have so many stories. You'll have to . . . Lyrian stories not Skellige, you can tell me some of those?" The question was there of moving past the misery.  
"I can. I can tell you of jam day!"  
"Other stories. You're more than jam Anima." He ran a hand down her back, all of her any piece she'd give he'd take, he'd carry.  
"What happens when the sun goes down?" Anima pressed them forward before she got them sidetracked.  
"We sit by a fire and I show you that there is more than three constellations in the sky, you have a shit sense of direction, knowing the stars a bit better might help."  
"Even your romance is practical." Anima leaned her head back kissing at his jaw.  
"Does that disappoint?" He was balanced as he could be, but that was just it, he couldn't be any more for her. If he hadn't run her up the mountain busy juggling not thinking as well as relationahip advice from a hopeless romantic, a keen observer and a literal poster for witcher stoicism maybe he would have come more prepared, trinkets and flowers were dumb but some food or drink would have made the night a little less bare,, a little more romantic. "It's not stout but I think there's a flask in my bag somewhere. I could-" The mountain wasn't exactly teaming with wildlife, he was sure he could catch something though. _'Snow hare probably. She does prefer rabbit to deer.'_ Being free to think quickly went to planning.  
"Nothing about you has ever disappointed me Geralt. Has even been less than enough." And all his breath just pooled out of him, it wasn't as nice as how his name sounded, or as special as her threat to keep him but he made room in his chest just to swell at his third or fourth favorite set of words. He wanted her to say it again, but he still had one more point to make, before he could figure this quest complete.  
"Third question." He kissed at her pulse and waited there. "The one you ask when molehills become mountains."  
"Oh." And she felt a bit torn, this was nice, this was what she wanted, even if she didn't deserve it, why ruin it.  
"You know what people want. That's why you don't trust what I say. Because I haven't . . . I didn't lie but you knew I didn't want it." He could feel her pulse bottom out. "I don't want to love you. Said it yourself feelings aren't choices. . . for those not like yourself. I was caked in Vodyanoi guts when it really hit me that I did. I hadn't stopped and thought it over, weighed out pros and cons, decided I wanted to love you. Loving you, having you near distracts from what I do, who I am. Could have gone my whole life without eating lutefish Anima, never would have happened if I hadn't brought you here. So no If we have to be frustratingly practical about it, I don't want to love you. I don't believe in destiny so I don't think I was fated to love you. Maybe you did bewitch me or maybe it's some curse. You could be at Thill's home right now listening to her gossip and gloat about her children, or been married in Sodden with Jordy, not have awoken what's going on inside you. Or maybe like most of the monspters I chase there's a more simple explanation to it. What matters isn't where it grows from it's how it burns." No one could ever dare accuse Geralt of not being a good listener. "I'd rather suffer being in love you than be content alone."  
"You want me to suffer with you?" Anima repeated the last bit. Hadn't Jaskier equated their relationship to eased suffering? Hadn't Vesemir called their coupling quicksand? Maybe they were not exactly torture, almost a threat. "Better than good worse than awful."  
"That wasn't what you wanted to hear." He could feel her pulse skip at his lips. Suffering had not been a good word choice, it was less than romantic. But more often than not, they did suffer through their love. He would not dress up the truth at this late stage.  
"No one wants to suffer." Anima stated blankly.  
"No I suppose they don't." Geralt nuzzled at her neck a bit more, he could be patient, he didn't have to attack at every press.  
"You act like you do. You brood like you were born for it Geralt and that's both terrying and beautiful."  
"Hmm." Her tone was loving but her words mournful. "I don't want to suffer . . . but if I must-"  
"You are honest though. And in a world that the gods themselves seem out to swindle and spite, you see that rarely. So rarely I have a hard time believing it . . . trusting it but if you swear you aren't suffering because you think you haven't earned more- " Anima was admitting to her faults, he had been honest with her for years but her distrust ran so deep. What was fact she had viewed as a blind leap of faith. "I know I'd rather . . . Well shit." Geralt had spoken so much she had to scramble to find original words. "I do love you Geralt, I don't want you to suffer, you shouldn't have to and I worry you don't know that. We are good at it though."  
"The best." He gave a toothy smirk.  
"Don't settle for it though. Promise me if you find something better than suffering you'll tell me?"  
"Hmm." He thought about it long and hard. "I can't promise that." He rested his forehead against hers. "Either something is or it isn't. You're home, you're happy . . . safe. You are . . . better than that . . . doesn't exist so I won't talk about it as if it is." He could see her brow knit as she contemplated his words. "It wouldn't be suffering if it was straightforward."  
"That is true." All that talking, and Anima would still have the burden of that question inside her.  
"Remeber at the stream, what I asked you?"  
"What stream Geralt? You say that like there's one stream. We have put some miles in these-"  
"I asked-" He paused to laugh, the day had been long on her and she was still a bit edgy. "For first crack to give you what you need. I asked you not to pull away. I can do the same. If I want or need something that you aren't giving I'll tell you, I promise. I don't believe there's something better than being with you, but I won't settle in the suffering." Geralt thought that almost sounded backhandidly romantic. Anima nestled in against his heartbeat, it was a bit lighter under all his aromor but she could find it anywhere.  
"So you went and took advice from the whole keep, worked yourself dizzy, and then fell back on something you said?"  
"Not the whole keep." Lambert might make sense to Anima, but Geralt wasn't sure one, he could handle whatever blunt advice the yougest wolf had, nor if by how Lambert's current relationship was going was he sure Lambert had the best grasp on healthy constructive relationships. "But you don't aim to keep everyone in Kaer Morhen."  
"No. I can't juggle the wants and needs of all the witchers for . . . any length of time. Family is best taken is small doses or so I've heard."  
"Hmm. Winter's about as much as we can stand of one another."  
"Ves will kick us out soon?" And that got a smile out of him, that she had finally called him that.  
"That. Or one more person will knock on our door and I'll lose my mind." He really was near itching to leave, no ceiling could be tall enough to make it feel right, feel like he wasn't hiding from the path.  
"No more hiding then." Every once in a while he forgot she was very much in his head. "From what we have to do." And her voice was even but there was worry there.  
"Hmm." And that was the most romantic thing he'd ever heard. Once the thaw came, once they could be cooped up no longer, they would go out. But the path would have to be wider than his footsteps this time, she wouldn't hide under an over protective shaddow, or run ahead of him, getting lost on her way back to Lyria. She would walk next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I like this chapter very much, this story is probably one of my least favorites. So I'll probably put a bit more thought into the planning stages of the next part, either redania for vampires, oxenfurt for artists or straight to cintra, so I've got options. Opinions are welcomed.


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